Supervisory Special Agent Booth
by navnit
Summary: Recently promoted Christine Booth finds her career being stonewalled by her overprotective father. Feeling the need to prove herself she enlists the help of her childhood best friend and partner in crime. One Michael Staccato Vincent Hodgins-Montenegro.
1. Chapter 1

Christine Angela Booth took a deep breath and looked one last time down at the the letter handed to her this morning. The Deputy Directors signature on the bottom of the page mocked her. She tried not to let it get to her. Biting her lip she looked up at the beautiful array of buildings that was her second home for so many years and her lips formed a thin line. Her eyes glinted in surpressed anger and she got out of the SUV slammed the door shut and walked purposely over to the entrance.

If he wanted to play this game with her than she was going to show him just who she was.

Recently promoted _Supervisory Special Agent_ Christine Booth flashed her badge and entered the once world renown Jeffersonian Institute.

* * *

Dr Michael Vincent Hodgins looked up as the door to his lab door slammed open and in walked an ethereal beauty clad in a form fitting black power suit with a tantalisingly open collar.

She had red blonde hair, a spitting image of her mother and yet the anger in her eyes was almost completely her father. He swallowed his nervousness and put the piece of skull he was examining back on the table, straightening up as she set off the alarm to the platform by walking straight through. He nodded to his intern Cat who hurried to swipe her card at the entrance to stop the klaxons ringing even as the warrior princess in black came to stand across from him, her surpressed anger palpable.

Ah Christine Booth. For the past seven years he had had absolutely zero contact with this woman. They had been inseparable before. That happened when you grow up together and have no one else to play with for the first ten years of your life. His best friend. _His_ Christine.

He _knew_ that night would change them. He knew he should have resisted more. But being in love with your Mom and Dad's best friends daughter from the age of puberty was never going to end well.

Finding her side of the bed empty and an email twenty days later telling him she had been accepted in the Academy was all he needed to know that he had managed to lose his best friend. And now she was standing in front of him again. He had heard she made Supervisory Special Agent. The last guy to consult with their lab was extremely chatty about the Deputy Directors daughter being promoted soon. Mumbling about nepotism. But Michael had followed Chrissy's entire carreer through the Academy and the FBI, she was the fastest rising Agent through the ranks of the Agency despite her dad's obvious dislike of her career choice.

And here she was, seven years later. No phone calls. No emails. No texts. Just here. And apparently angry at him. He wondered what to do. She looked beautiful. More than he had ever known her to be. God damn his Hodgins heart.

"Mikey, I need your help."

"Hello to you too Christine. Welcome back to DC, how was your flight? In fact, how was your last seven years?" Just because his heart still raced at the sight of her, didn't mean he had to give her what she wanted after seven years of radio silence.

He watched her visibly deflate in front of him and immediately felt bad for making her sad. The next minute he was angry at himself. _She_ was the one who left. What about when she made me sad? He still sighed and snapped of his gloves.

"Miss Cat, please check the rest of skull for missing fragments and scan in the image to 3D print the missing pieces so we can complete it for storage. Agent Booth? Follow me."

As he made his way up his entomologist rushed in to hand in a report. "Thank you, Rachel. Check the particulate on table nine and see if you can find any discoloration in the bones on table five, I have a suspicion on cause of death but i don't want to suppose based on speculation."

She nodded and smiled hopefully at him but went on her way when she encountered his new shadow dogging his steps.

His pathologist waved through the window and he took out his phone to send Mrs Delton his finished report on the Civil War Soldier. Delton smiled her appreciation at his promptness and got back to her work.

"Seems like you run a tight ship, Dr Hodgins-Montenegro." she tried for small talk but he really wasn't in the mood.

"I learned from the best," he replied sardonically referencing her mother. "And I go by Dr Michael around here most of the time. Hodgins-Montenegro is a bit of a mouthfull."

He swiped his key card and entered his office.

"But I can still call you Mikey right?" she asked impishly as he turned back around to her.

"That awfully familiar, Agent Booth." he returned walking around to his chair and surreptitiously taking a picture frame off his desk.

"You're punishing me," replied her sullen voice and damn did it not tug at his heart strings.

Still he met her eyes, her beautiful gray blue eyes, dead on. "I wasn't the one who promised nothing was going to change and then broke that promise." It was petulant, he realised, but he was twenty five with three doctorates and five people working under him in the most prestigious forensic anthropology lab in the United States, sorry if he allowed himself some leniency.

She broke eye contact first and mumbled something under her breath before changing the subject. Typical Chrissy, her avoidance behaviour hadn't seem to have changed in the last seven years.

"The Assistant Director is stonewalling my promotion by assigning me as a liason to the Jeffersonian," she said through clenched teeth as she handed in the orders.

Michael read the document, scanned it and made a copy for himself before handing it back to her.

"He knows that it will keep me out of harms way," she made air quotes while rolling her eyes. "So that I don't get hurt."

He looked her up and down out of the side of his own printed copy of the Assistant Directors orders and couldn't help but agree with his concerns. She had filled out a bit, grown more in strength probably and he had no doubt she was an excellent Agent, probably could kick his ass. But he couldn't help but want her safe. Still.

"The politics of the FBI office is not something that I concern myself with Agent Booth. And I assure you that what we do in the lab for the Agency is very important." He was a little peeved that she regarded this job as beneath her purview.

She looked up from her pacing and backtracked. "Of course I think your job is important, Mikey." His chest tightened at her imploring tone of voice. "I just know that he gave me this job thinking that because it no longer has the closure rate of its heyday, he can just drop me off here and expect me to just play nice."

"His concern for you is not unwarranted, Christine," he said against his better judgement. Her clenched jaw was extremely telling of what she thought of that opinion. "How many times has your dad been injured in the job, Chrissy? How many times do your remember your mum having to tend to his back? Wake him up from nightmares? Stich his wounds? He's got a permanent limp because of this job Christine. I don't know why you wanted to put your parents through this when you joined the Academy." What she put him through was left unsaid.

Her countenance had shifted while he talked, at one point she even smiled at him but as he went on her smile turned frosty.

"I didn't choose this path to hurt my family Michael!" she near yelled. "I chose this path because my father dedicated his life to it and he was the one I wanted to live up to."

Michael Vincent softened a little at her admittance. "Your father would have been just as proud if you were barristering at a Starbucks Chrissy, at least then he won't have to worry about you coming home on a stretcher."

Christine closed her eyes and he could tell she was trying to not yell out her point, he remembered her mom teaching them that if your get your point across civilly then you gain the respect of your debater. Yelling and screaming made you sound uncultured and makes your point moot.

"Look around you Michael! You have the world best scientists working with you, you have the respect of peers twenty years older than you. You are making a difference. My parents made a difference. _Your_ parents made a difference. They saved lives Mikey. You give people justice. I knew that my career path before the academy might have made me rich? But I wouldn't be making a difference."

Her impassioned speech, almost whispered, her bright eyes, her intense gaze, made him lose his words for a moment. Then he sighed. It was pointless denying this woman anything. He was going to give in to her anyway.

"I have a standing contract with the FBI. You bring in the remains, I'll get the team on the job. At the end of the day I'll mail you my findings."

"Nope!" she said promptly making him look up in trepidation.

"What do you mean, Nope?" he asked again; against his better judgement.

"I mean, Nope! I am not going to sit in my office waiting for you to call me to tell me your findings while I interrogate suspect after suspect and do what _he_ expects me to do."

"Chrissy," he said in exasperation. "This is what we do."

She shook her head put both hands on his table and leaned over his monitor. He had a hard time not looking down.

"This lab and you can do so much more than the once a month body dump that you have to deal with. Our forensic lab back in HQ identifies remains and particulates at three times slower speeds than the slowest squint team back in the day. I'm good at my job but relying on just the FBI forensic team for evidence gives the perp just as much time to escape justice.

"The team at the Jeffersonian? They were the best. Agent Booth and Dr Brennans closure rate is still the best closure rate of any partnership in the FBI. I want to bring that glory back to the Jeffersonian. And to do that I need a _partner_."

He was confused for a moment about exactly what she was asking. Then it slowly dawned on him even as he watched her grin widen.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no." he muttered shaking his head frantically.

"Yes, Mikey." she replied coming around the desk to stand close. "You remember? We used to talk about it? Agent and Doctor? Remember? How we planned to be partners and fight crime!"

She was way too close. Pushing his chair away he tried to regain his composure.

"Chrissy playing pretend at twelve is whole lot more different than taking down perps as an adult. I'm a scientist. A squint, as you guys like to call us. We don't belong in the field."

She was not deterred. "Not according to Caroline. I talked to her about a warrant a week ago and she mentioned that on the first case the FBI pushed on you, you wanted a ride along. But the Special Agent in charge shut you down."

"He wasn't wrong. I may have training but I'm not a cop. I belong in the lab."

"Even when you could make a difference?"

Micheal blinked.

"Just hear me out, okay?" she asked imploringly and he cursed his weak will against this woman for the umpteenth time.

At his nod she turned to the silver half sphere sitting on his desk. The Universal Hyperlink Bus blinked as she placed her hand on it and the details on the monitor changed immediately.

His works and all his projects open, we're wiped away and in came an entirely new desktop display with a wallpaper showcasing two fuzzy furballs of fluff. He snorted at her display.

She grinned in retaliation. "I heard that Tib still pines for me at night?"

"He's just moody, I'm sure Fib just gets along fine? She was always the well adjusted of the twins."

"Yes well," she said softly. "Now that I'm back maybe they can reconnect?"

"Maybe," he allowed cautiously. "let's see where this goes first."

Were they really talking about the dogs anymore?

She touched the monitor pulling out the holographic display to access the case files.

"Take a look at this," she pulled up x-rays and forensic photographs of remains discovered near a golf course. "See anything?" she asked already knowing his genius brain was analysing.

"Blunt force trauma to the skull..."

"Buried face down..."

"Hands and feet tied together...?"

"..."

"..."

"...?"

"Epps?"

Christine smiled. "I knew you'd recognise that, considering his was one of the first cases we studied."

"We should have known then," he said a slight smile on his face. "Sneaking out serial killer case files from the lab for research is not normal teenager behaviour."

Chrissy shrugged. "Well I think we turned out alright." She went back to the photos. "This body dates back to the mid to late 2000s, around the time Epps and his apprentice Lappin were operating. She's positivily been identified as one of the last Epps victims barring Caroline Epps." she pulled up a picture of a cutiish looking blond girl around her own age, smiling softly at the camera." Her name is Norina Smalls, from West Virginia. She was attending college in DC and rooming with her two friends. Her parents filed a missing person's report thirty years ago. I'm going to have to be the one to go tell them we found her. But probably not the way they were hoping."

He looked up and his heart clenched at the anguish he saw on her face. He lifted a hand and placed it next to hers on the desk." I'm sorry you have to do that, Chrissy."

"It's part of the job. You have take the good with the bad," she admitted accepting his condolences.

"I'm still waiting for the good, I guess."

Chrissy looked like she wanted to ask bit held her tongue.

"Anyways, this was discovered. two weeks ago. Yesterday we had another body surface. This one dating a week ago." she pulled up another case file and scattered the photos over the desktop. "Recognise anything?"

Michael reached out and touched part of the wallpaper turning it black, he didn't want to see his dog next to the remains of a dead body. He focused then on said remains looking for and recognising the impossible M.O. that Christine was suggesting.

But there right in front of him was a fresh body in recent stage of decomposition sporting Howard Epps signature M.O.

"We have a copycat killer."

Chrissy smiled despite the grim announcement. "Yes we do!"

At that declaration he shook his head. "Christine," he interrupted her internal celebration. "Let's say I do agree to be your partner in this investigation, what makes you think your superiors are going to allow us to work together. I mean, your Dad aside, most Agents I've worked with say the same thing; Squints belong in the lab. And don't tell me your Dad will agree to it. First of all it will show favoritism and second he's just as overprotective of me as he is of you so...?"

Christine smiled. "Oh, don't worry about that Mikey. I've got the perfect counter to Dad's objections."

Just then the his phone rang and Dr Temperance Brennans face appeared over the screen.

"Speak of the devil," Christine said a little smugly as Michael accepted the call.

"Michael Vincent?" asked the world renowned Anthropologist and Author.

"Yes Dr Brennan?" responded her former student, more out of habit than anything else.

"Is Christine there?" she asked hesitantly. "Only, she promised to pick me up at twelve and still hasn't arrived."

Chrissy decided to peek in. "It's only twelve fifteen Mom! I'm on my way."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Christine. If you intended to arrive at a time closer to twelve thirty than why would you inform me that your time of arrival was different. I could have got more work done."

"Sorry, mom." she muttered sarcastically knowing full well that her mom didn't register sarcasm.

"Can you inform me now exactly why we need to meet your father in his office?"

"I'll explain it on the way, mom," she replied quickly and threw Michael Vincent's overcoat at him. "We're on our way, Mom."

"Okay, sweetie. See you soon." She cut off the connection before Chrissy could fully analyse the suspicious tone in her voice.

She disregarded it and pulled Mikey to his feet. "Come on, let's go."

Michael Vincent looked once more down at the picture of two teenagers hugging closely as a candid picture of the two were taken and deposited the picture to the bottom drawer. With the real thing around he didn't need a reminder as to why he was where he was. He dutifully followed Christine Booth down the steps, knowing full well that this path could only lead to heartbreak and yet once again he was willing to walk down this path with her. He wondered how long this partnership would last.

**I have so many stories in progress but while recently reminiscing about Bones I couldn't help but write this down. Tell me what you think? Please? I'm actually not above begging!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Exactly _where_ are we going?" asked the sixty-one year old mother of the newly promoted SS Agent.

Temperance Brennan had neither lost her charm or her innocence of not being connected with the world around her, despite her age. She still retained her complexion and beauty. Indeed her husband constantly praised that she could still give her daughter a run for her money; a colloquialism that she didn't understand.

Her auburn tresses might have some gray strands but she never endeavoured to hide them, choosing to flaunt her aging instead of secreting it. Even Christine envied her mothers demeanor and poise. She possessed zero insecurity in her presentation and it showed in the way she held herself. Even now young bucks in the bullpen would complement the Deputy Director about his beautiful wife.

"Mom, Dad stonewalled me by making me liason to the Jeffersonian..."

"A position your father held himself for many years! Infact if Booth hadn't been our liason we may have never fallen in love."

Chrissy sighed and nodded. "Yes I know and yes I _am_ proud of yours and dad's accomplishments Mom, but right now the Jeffersonian gets maybe one set of remains a month and the major crime cases go straight to the forensic lab at FBI HQ."

"I do recall Booth telling me that he missed the fast pace crime solving we used to do. The new FBI only task force just doesn't possess the same amount of expertise that they once had when relying on the Jeffersonian for help."

"Yeah!" she exclaimed triumphantly as she swerved into traffic. "He knew the condition of the liason and still put me there, just to get me off of dangerous cases."

"So you want me to talk to Booth and ask him to give you a better position." She concluded succinctly.

"No, Mom." Christine replied pulling into the Hoover parking lot and switching off the engine. "I'm not looking for a handout."

Brennan scrunched up her nose. "I'm not handing you anything Christine."

"No Auntie B," interjected a relatively silent till now, Michael. "She just means that she doesn't want it easy just because she's the dauter of the Deputy Director."

"Well why didn't you just say that? And it does sound like you're complaining, Sweetie."

Christine shook her head. "No Mom, I'm not. Every problem is an opportunity in disguise remember?"

"Quoting former Presidents does not allow me to see your intended argument any more clearly, Christine!"

She was only moments away from banging her head against the steering.

"Look Mom, Dad put me with the Jeffersonian because he _knows_ nothing important happens there anymore. Nothing important means nothing dangerous. But it also means that I won't have any hope of advancing my career if I'm stuck solving cookie cutter cases once a month."

"I understand your predicament but fail to see what a pastry making tool has to do with it."

"Mom, I want to return the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab to its former glory. Remember way back when you and Dad would solve cases left and right? Dad rising through the ranks of the FBI? You getting job offers and book deals left and right. All the squints being recognised for their role in solving murders? Mom an entire block of resources are just rotting away at the Jeffersonian since the Brennan-Booth partnership ended. They could be helping save lives. Like you used to do. I want that for them and for me."

"Your reasons for requesting this are sound and accurate. You are impassioned and purposeful and you already have the job of liason. Why do you need me here? Just request more homicide cases be directed to the Jeffersonian and you have what you want."

"Yeah Mom, I know that but in order for this to work I need a partner. And not another Agent but a partner from the Jeffersonian who could work with me in the field. Like you used to do."

Brennan pursed her lips then looked from her daughters face to her former student sitting in the back the realisation dawning on her.

"Oh!" She blinked at Micheal. "Michael Vincent? You want to be a part of this?"

"Well Doctor Brennan I do come highly recommended and plus I was taught by the best and of course my self defence skills are impeccable enough that I could protect Chrissy of I needed to."

"I can take care of myself, thank you Mikey." Chrissy said firing up. "Supervisory _Special _Agent here remember?"

Brennan addressed Mike. "Your flattery of my teaching method, while appreciated, does not have a bearing on this situation. Booth loves you as if you were his son, he would be just as reticent to allow you into the field as he would Christine."

"Yeah, maybe Mom, but you know? Michael Vincent tried to get his views across to the Agent in charge of his first FBI homicide case. You know what the Agent said?"

Brennan looked from Michael to Christine and sighed. "That Squints belong in the lab?"

"Exactly, Mom and I know you don't agree with that. Look all I want is the same agreement you had with the FBI. I don't know who else to go to make that happen."

Brennan sighed once more and opened the door. "C'mon let's go talk to your father."

Chrissy smiled wide and jumped out of the SUV and a more sedate Michael and Brennan followed the young woman over to the elevator.

She frowned after her daughter. Alot of people often commented that while she looked just like him, her personality was all her dad's. Those who knew her personally would not attest to that observation. Brennan saw alot of herself in her daughter. She also saw her making a lot of her own mistakes.

Glancing at the young man next to him, whose gaze was also stuck on the bouncy Booth she nudged him with her shoulder.

"You're risking alot," she asked her brightest student. "After what happened..."

"It doesn't change the way I felt then and it doesn't change the way I feel now."

Unfortunately she saw a lot of her husband Michael Vincent. Combine that with a man so much like his own father and the self sacrificing just didn't seem to stop with this one.

Christine yelled out across the parking garage for them to hurry up, which they did and proceeded to enter the Hoover.

* * *

FBI Deputy Director Seeley Joseph Booth put down the glasses and picked up his stress ball. Squeezing the toy he manged to free some of the circulation in his cramping fingers and groaned as he straightened his back out. He was having a very typically normal day, which was why when half his family came barging into his office he didn't yell or scream he was just grateful for the end to the monotony.

God he was looking forward to retiring.

"And what can I do for my beautiful family today?" he asked cheerfully.

Seeley Booth was still in good shape at the ripe age of Sixty-five. Aside from the salt and pepper of his hair and the extended crows feet around his eyes he barely looked like he had aged in the last twenty or so years. His body told him otherwise but what the public didn't know, they didn't care about.

"Booth!" His wife walked around his desk to land a soft long one on his lips before straightening up and unnecessarily fiddling with his tie and lapels. Booth let her do it, mainly because he wasn't self conscious in front of his family and as always he loved it when she surprised him at work.

"Hey, Bones. You missed me?" His charm smile was still as effective on her as twenty years ago and he didn't need her responding smile to know that she had.

"So what's with the presence of the Death Squad here?" he asked indicating the two previously estranged friends. "I haven't seen these two side by side since they went off to college but don't think I've forgotten what you two got up to back then."

He had of course meant it in an innocent way but of course the two, with their history, shifted nervously and moved a little further apart. Michael casting him a terrified look. Booth couldn't help but smile.

"Booth, Christine has a proposition that he wishes to get across to you."

"No!" said Booth promptly. "The decision to make you the Jeffersonian liason was not mine and its out of my hands to make a change to that decision."

"That's not why we're here, sir."

He smiled at the professional adress. He was flattered beyond his wildest dreams when his daughter had decided to follow in his footsteps instead of her mothers, despite her superior intellect. But that didn't mean he wasn't scared shitless of the dangerous career choice she had made.

"Then please explain your presence in my office Agent Booth." Man wasn't _that_ address a doozy?

"Sir," she said. "I would like to request allowance to take a member of the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab team into the field to offer a unique perspective during case investigations."

"And by 'A Member' Agent Booth," he said looking at the young man next to his daughter. "You mean Dr Michael here?"

"Yes, sir."

Booth bit his bottom lip. Now he had two members of his family wanting to be out in the field. He looked to his wife who had sat next to him on the available chair and and was munching over his cookie jar. She paused as he raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged.

"Don't look at me, I'm just here to take you out to lunch."

"And what prompted this decision?" he asked stapling his fingers and piercing them with a Cullen worthy glare.

To their credit they didn't flinch.

"Sir, the records show that the Jeffersonian Medico Legal Lab has been instrumental time and time again as a resource for solving cases."

Booth nodded. "Agreed, which is why the FBI has a longstanding contract with the lab that allows us to use those resources."

"But nobody uses them."

Booth raised another eyebrow, this time at his daughter. "How so?"

"Sir I don't mean to quote statistics at you, as I'm sure you already know that out of the total number of Homicides, Aggravated Assault and any number of violent crimes, the Jeffersonian only receives about twenty eight percent of these cases."

She reached for his UHB*. "May I?" she asked her father, receiving a nod she swiped her fingers on it twice and brought up Violent Crimes case files in the past twelve months.

Pulling one up she asked. "You have experience working with the Jeffersonian, can you tell me the time it would take for the team there to run a tox screen, deflesh these remains, ID the victim, determine cause of death and identify the murder weapon. Normal working hours permitting."

Booth scanned the pictures, putting his glasses back on to scrutinise the remains.

"Well, in my experience it shouldn't take more than three days, maximum four allowing for complications and anomalies."

Brennan grinned at Booths knowledge of the lab work and procedure and concurred with his assessment.

Christine smiled grimly. "Those remains arrived at the FBI Crime Labs two weeks ago and they have only just managed to deflesh the remains. The crime scene is compromised and by now the killer is probably long gone."

"Yeah," Booth nodded, this wasn't news to him, it was his job after all to supervise Major Crimes. "I see the problem, Agent Booth, but I see another one as well. Agents, _most Agents_, don't work well with squints. The way they train you in the academy to look for a murderer goes against everything a squint stands for. Most Agents are put off by the squints insistent to stick to facts. They refuse to acknowledge criminal profiling tactics, scenario positing, agenda speculation, Motive or Modus Operandi. Working with squints takes a special type of Agent."

"_You_ did it," Chrissy replied shortly.

He glanced at his wife who was quietly observing the two then turned back to his daughter. "You think you have what it takes to tackle the squints? Control a non Agent in the field?"

"I do, sir."

Booth pursed his lips before nodding and picking up his pen. Taking a sheet from his draw he scribbled something down and handed it to Michael Vincent.

"Hand this to my assistant and pickup your consultant badge tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." Mikey answered and took the sheet from Booth.

Christine was stunned. She didn't expect her dad to give in so easily.

"Are you serious, Dad!" she asked losing her professional demeanor for a moment before realising what came out of her mouth. "I mean... sorry sir."

Booth scowled at her a little. "Make sure I don't end up regretting this decision, Agent Booth."

"You won't, sir. I promise," she gushed.

Booth allowed a smile. "As your commanding officer, I have faith in you." His smile got a little softer. "But as your father, I am immensely proud of you. And I hope you don't hesitate to talk to us if you face any problems."

Christine rushed her dad swallowing him up in a hug and kissing his cheek. "Thanks dad."

"You deserve it, Princess."

Christine let the moniker go, just this once.

Booth looked at a smiling Michael and nodded knowingly causing the dark haired kid to blush.

"Good luck on your first case."

Christine stilled in her father's lap and scrambled to get off.

"Yeah, sir." She said switching back to Agent mode. "About that...uh... we've already gotten our first case. It's sort of a closed case. Some new evidence has resurfaced and we have to talk to the arresting officer at the time."

Booth grinned not catching the sudden subdued demeanor of the new partners.

"That's great, you can still have lunch before you go talk to this guy right?"

"We can," she allowed looking to Michael who shrugged. "But we don't have to go anywhere. The arresting officer was you Dad."

Booth blinked and looked at Brennan who looked equally as perplexed as him. "What?"

"You were the one who arrested the murderer, almost thirty years ago. The perp targeted young blonde girls? His M.O. was to bludgeon the victim to death before tying their limbs together and burying them face down in shallow graves."

Scenes flashed before his eyes. The parking lot, April Wright's innocent smiling face, the marsh full of buried young women, and a man falling twenty feet to his death as Booths hand grabbed fruitlessly at thin air.

He met his daughters eyes, so much like her mothers and found tightly controlled emotions there. Michael avoided his gaze but Brennan, his Bones, was there with her warm compassionate eyes that showed so much emotion. Gaining courage from her he turned back to his daughter, the current Supervisory Special Agent Booth and uttered one word.

"Epps."

* * *

* UHB - Universal Hyperlink Bus: A device of the future connected virtually to mimic a person's personal computer from any other control station which uses a UHB.


	3. Chapter 3

"You think it's Epps?" Brennan asked as she chowed down some Veg Lo Mein.

"Epps is dead Bones," replied the former investigator turned Director. "I watched him die." His own food was left forgotten as he swiped through dozens of files all connected to the serial killer that had haunted so many of their dreams.

"Yes. But you still think its him."

Booth looked up to see his wife lounged on the wide cushioned bench next to his desk. Her feet were up and bare, her legs crossed, encased in comfortable, casual jeans as she balanced a carton of takeout on her lap taking bites off of her chopstick.

He sometimes wondered where that uptight rational Dr Temperance Brennan went. Oh sure she brought it out for conversing with people other than her family but still, when he first met Bones he would have never thought that she would be growing old with him, relaxing on a bench in his office and talking about dead serial killers coming back to life.

She was perfect.

"Its flawless. Lappin made some adjustments and changes when he was killing for Epps, but this guy? It just _feels_ like him you know?"

Brennan shook her head. "No I don't. All I see are the remains of a poor girl who has been killed and buried in a position mimicking a thirty year old serial killer."

She got up and sat next to him picking a piece of meat up with her chopsticks and making him eat.

"What I do know, Booth. Is that in the past even my science and facts have managed to fail me. But your instincts and _gut __feeling _has never once let me down. So if you say it feels like Howard Epps, then I believe you."

"Even if it means that a dead man came back to life?" he asked accepting another bite from her and finally swiping away the files.

"Mmm," she hummed as he took a turn at feeding her from her carton. Munching on the morsel she considered her answer. "_You_ did that once, Booth. Remember."

Booth clenched his teeth at the reminder of the pain he had caused her with that stunt.

"Yeah, Bones. But I wasn't really dead."

"To me you were," she replied without belaying any discomfort at discussing this hardly talked about subject. "I'm going to request Dr Bray to allow me to sit in on this case. It looks Howard Epps related and it's Christine's first case working with the Jeffersonian. I want to see how it goes."

Taking another few bites Booth agreed with her idea. "Why do you have to _ask_ Wendell. You and Hodgins practically own the Jeffersonian."

"We both make substantial donations to the Institute but it doesn't constitute as owning it, Booth."

"Well its a hell of a lot more than anyone else's dontates, right?"

"I am no longer part of the Jeffersonian lab Booth. If I wish to consult then the correct way to go about it would be to contact the Adminstrator to request my expertise. If he refuses, then..."

"Then I'm gonna kick Wendell's ass."

"Then I will be okay with that decision, Booth. They are under no obligation to accept my offer."

"Yeah right. Each and every squint that works in that lab, owes their livelihood to you Bones, Wendell better recognise that fact before I get in his face about it."

Brennan scowled at him for a moment to which Booth gave a smile and she melted and leaned in to steal a kiss. Standing up she shrugged on a coat, pulling on her heels before walking to the door.

"I'll catch a cab to the Institute. Do you mind picking up dinner, we might be late getting back home."

"Of course I don't mind, Bones. You do what you have to do and I'll pick you up when I get off work."

"I love you, Booth."

"Love you too, Bones." He got in before she closed the door.

Sighing Booth brought up the files one last time before forwarding them all to his daughter. This wasn't his job anymore. He had papers to sign and requests to approve. God he couldn't wait to retire.

* * *

Agent Booth and Dr Michael had done the beat cop thing around the block that Epps used to live, she talked to the new tenants of the house and the neighbours but someone who lived here thirty years ago didn't ring anyone's bells.

Just as they were walking back to the SUV they were stopped by a donation collector. He was a tall fetching bloke in form fitting jacket and jeans. Not someone you would normally see shaking collecting tins under peoples noses.

"Hi," the blue eyed gentleman said at they grew near. "Can you spare some change? I'm collecting for the Orphanage."

Michael Vincent couldn't understand it but something about this guy put him in edge. And it was something other than the fact that he was blatantly checking out his new partner.

"Oh we're FBI, asking questions about a murder case. I'm sure I have some change in the car. I could go get it."

"The Lord appreciates your kindness Miss...?"

"Oh Christine," she said finally cottoning on to this guys flirting, flushing slightly she glannced at Michaels stony expression and turned back to the guy willing her blush to go away. "I mean, Agent Booth." She said in a stronger voice. "I'll just go and get the change."

Christine ran for her car as Michael studied this man. He didn't turn to look at Christine as she walked away which belied his previous interest in her. He wondered what this guy's deal was. Spotting the label on the tin he decided to speak up.

"Junior Village, eh? I heard they were facing pretty intense legal problems lately."

"The Lords work is often under scrutiny, the Devil works against us. I assure you as a former lost soul I was blessed to have been placed at the Orphanage. They gave me purpose."

While not as much of a conspiracy theorist as his father, Michael Vincent still held a deep sense of distrust of people's first impressions and he definitely didn't trust the Church or people who ran places like the Junior Village. Before he could comment though Chrissy returned with a wad of cash in her hand. Peeling off four twenties she pushed it in the the tin and smiled as the stranger tipped his metaphorical hat and made to leave.

That is until Christine stopped him. "Oh I didn't get your name!" she exclaimed smiling shyly.

The stranger turned and returned her smile but didn't stop. "Names Rowan. I'll see you around Agent Christine."

"Yeah! Bye."

"You know I'm pretty sure gushing after hot donation collectors wasn't part of your job description."

The snide remark made Christine turn. Expecting a disapproving scowl he was surprised to find a soft smile on her face.

"You felt it too, huh?"

"Felt it?"

"That vibe he gave off? He's tall, good looking seems to be good with people, looks outgoing, flirtatious. And yet he's collecting money for an orphanage?"

"Thats speculation," he declared dutifully. "We can't arrest people based on gut feelings."

"Ah but you don't deny that you _did_ feel something, did you Mikey?"

He went to speak but thought better of it.

"You get where he's from?" at his look she elaborated. "I saw you talking to him, I figured you were needling him?"

Scowling at appearing so transparent he hastened to answer her. "He's collecting for Junior Village. It's an orphanage that's been in the news recently. Adopted children reporting abuse ranging from verbal, to physical even sexual. It's all been a big scandal."

"And he's collecting money for them?" she asked as they opened their doors and climbed in. "I told you he made me feel on edge."

Despite his agreement with the _feels_ he still was outwardly contrary. "Edgy feelings does not make him a suspect."

"Yeah but it does make him a creep." She replied putting the car into gear and pulling into the road. "Your remains should have arrived by now. I'll drop you off."

"Where are you going?"

"Well I need to talk to one of our profilers get a feel for this perp. I know it's not your cup of tea but having a full profile usually helps, especially if we're talking serial killers."

"I understand psychological profiling helps track down killers, Chrissy. I've followed a lot of your dad's cases remember?"

Chrstine smiled nodding before concentrating in the road.

A few minutes later he felt her take his hand in hers. His heart flipped at the contact. The first contact for seven years. Michael looked up into gray blue eyes full of gratitude.

"Thank you for agreeing to this Mikey. I know I didn't have any right to ask after what I did. But I'm glad we're working together."

He squeezed her hand lightly. "Chrissy whatever happened between us is in the past. Do I wish you had kept contact? Sure. But I could easily have gotten in contact with you as well. I didn't. And that's on me. We've moved on from that time of our lives. You don't owe me anything."

She looked like she disagreed but graced him with her smile still and let go of his hand. He couldn't explain the sense of loss but managed to ignore it while she drove him to the Jeffersonian.

* * *

Entering the lab he was surprised to see Doctor Brennan and Doctor Bray waiting for him.

"Ah! Doctor Michael," said Dr Bray greeted. "Just in time. I heard about your consultancy with the FBI."

"Yes, sir. I was going to talk to you about it, but Christine, I mean Agent Booth kind of blindsided me."

Dr Bray smiled and exchanged a loaded look with his former instructor. Spotting his questioning look at the presence of Dr Brennan, Dr Bray hastened to explain.

"Dr Brennan has requested to observe the proceedings regarding this case. It's no slight on you Dr Michael but seeing as this is her daughters first case and also involving one of her previous cases she wished to lend her expertise if it be needed."

Dr Brennan stepped forward. "It _won't_ be needed," she said assuredly lending a rare smile to her former student. "I am here, only to sit in and observe. If you should wish to ask me for help then of course I will empart whatever knowledge I can, with regards to my familiarity with the case, however do not think I am here to instruct or supervise you. This is yours and Christine's case."

To be honest Michael was kind of relieved to have Dr Brennan in for his first consultation with the FBI. He was quick to accept her offer.

"Of course, Dr Brennan. This lab is as much yours as it was when I was an intern."

"I think you'd find that Dr Saroyan was still in charge of the lab at that time, Michael, but I do recognise your sentiment. I will stand by my decision to be an observer until anything is required of me."

Michael took a deep breath and avoided her sharp eyes. "I won't let you down, Dr Brennan."

As he went to leave she stopped him. "That could never happen, Michael Vincent," she said softly. "It's not only Booth who thinks of you as his son."

He had to beat a hasty retreat at that, the one thing that Dr Brennan had not been able to teach him was her ability to completely compartmentalise emotions. She had said that _that_ particular ability developed not through teaching but through experiences and she never wanted him to go through those experiences.

Fortunately before he got too far his delivery came through. Running to the steps he guided the courier over to the tables and helped him transfer the remains to them.

Signing for the transfer he claimed custody of the evidence and sent the man away. Looking around him Michael only spotted Dr Brennan up in the lounge area, he answered her encouraging smile with one of his own and turned back to the table. Donning his lab coat and snapping on a pair of gloves he decided against calling Cat over and began preliminary examination of the remains.

* * *

Christine walked across the bullpen over to a door located just a little aside from the rest of the Agents. Knocking and being told to enter she walked in and took a seat, slumping her body down to the cushioned depths of the most comfortable chair in the world she laid her chin on her hand and stared disgruntled at the woman across from her.

Anabelle Clark was someone she would have never thought she would get along with. For one she was almost a decade older than Christine, _eight years is not a decade Chris_. And for another the woman reminded her way too much of herself and she didn't really like herself much. Ana was strong, beautiful, healthy. Took care of herself, hated depending on others. Came from a loving family, had made some bad decisions. Paid for them and still lived with them.

The thing that separated Ana from Christine was that Ana was at peace with her demons, while Christine struggled daily with her own. Never in a million years would she have thought she would ever be friends with such a positive person but there you go.

"So?" Ana smiled at her morose best friend. "How did he take it?"

"He hates me," she replied, nearly crying with frustration.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true," Ana replied gently. "Did he agree to work with you?"

"Yes."

"Well there you go. Why would a man agree to work with his former best friend, if he hated her?"

"Yeah but I wasn't _just _a best friend was I?"

Ana nodded. "True, but that doesn't detract from your former camaraderie surely."

"I spoiled it all, Ana. I'm sure every memory of me since childhood for him is tainted with the fact that I slept with him and left him like an illicit one night stand and didn't speak to him for seven years."

"Yes, but you had your reasons. I'm not saying they were the right reasons, but you had your reasons."

"Yeah, and my reasons were shit and you know it."

Ana shook her head. "I disagree, maybe if you explain it to him? Talk to him about that time. Clear the air? It could do wonders."

Christine just grunted and sank deeper into her chair.

Ana decided it would be best to move on from the topic. "Any ways how did your dad take the news?"

Christine perked up at that and suddenly her upbeat best friend was back talking animatedly about how her dad had barely even put up any resistance, she didn't even had to ask her mom to talk to him or anything.

While Chris talked Ana surreptitiously checked her schedule and noted the upcoming one on one meeting with Deputy Director Booth. Marking it down she turned her attention back to her friend but made a mental note to bring up this sudden supportive switch to his demeanor, when he had been so against his daughter joining the FBI previously.

* * *

Preliminary check done Michael finally called Cat over and she began catalogueing his finds as he started going over the remains more invasively.

"Should we be cross checking the evidence with Howard Epps' MO, Doctor Michael?"

Michael held back from being short with his intern, she was a recent acquisition with a promising future but tended to be a little headstrong.

"Miss Cat, as of the start of this examination, the only evidence for this case and the only report we will be filing with the FBI will concern just this set of remains and anything else found pertaining to the case at hand. Copy Cat killer. Howard Epps or any other profile, MO, or documented suppositions provided by the FBI should have no bearing on our find.

"We deal with hard facts. For this case the hard fact is that the victim is an unidentified female of approximately 18 to 25 years of age, Caucasian, fairly athletic build and she was found in a shallow grave buried face down with her hands and feet tied together. Our job is to identify the victim, inform the FBI, determine the cause of death, identify the murder weapon and make a case that can be proven unequivocally in the court of law."

Despite not raising his voice, in fact not even meeting Cats eyes his intern was properly chagrined and apologised profusely.

"Its alright Miss Cat, but please be aware that this is a murder investigation. Our evidence, how we gather it and how we present it determines if we get justice for the victim and her family."

"Of course, Dr Michael. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, let's begin."

* * *

From up top Brennan looked on in pride as the fruits of her teaching was imparted to a younger more impressionable generation, she quickly wiped away a tear and started taking her own notes, trying to ignore her rising emotions. She was getting very sentimental in her old age.


	4. Chapter 4

_'You are my legacy. Make me proud.'_

He reread the words written just for him. It was of course seared into his memories, having read those words ever since he could remember but somehow reading the written words gave him more comfort than recalling.

Glancing across the street his lip curled in disgust at her obvious display. The revealing clothes, the thick makeup, all dressed up for the night.

Closing the book and pocketing it, he headed across the street and entered the club after her.

* * *

Michael stood back as his forensic artist rolled the scanner over the table and let the machine scan the remains.

Today's technology allowed for pretty accurate sketches of faces just based on bone structure but Michael still preferred the human touch, which is why he had agreed to take on board Jayamma.

He was a Nigerian street artist that Michael had made use of when he had been knee deep in mass graves. His connection to the Angelatron had been lost and he had had to improvise. Finding an artist in a war torn country surrounded by refugees, gun runners, slave traders and mercenaries...

It was almost serendipitous how he had stumbled across the young Nigerian teenager and his little sister selling oil paintings to Americans.

Having heard from his mother how she and his aunt met, well he would be remiss to ignore the signs. Offering five times the amount he was charging for his painting plus food and lodgings he had taken the parent-less siblings to his camp and put them to work.

Five years later Jayamma was apprenticing under Michaels mother and his sister Emilohi was now attending elementary school with Jay adopting Em as soon as he reached adulthood.

Though still young Jay was an avid learner and picked up computing skills almost instinctively. He was constantly researching and implementing new ideas into his programs. His aim? To build a successor to the Angelatron in years to come.

He had commissioned this multi-spectrum 3D scanner to help construct a three dimensional sketch of the remains that they identified so as to make their job easier. However he also freehanded all of the reconstructions himself while the machine took its time to render its own version.

Pulling the scanner aside he looked to Michael for further instructions.

"Jay, I'll call Agent Booth and have her give you access to the FBI missing persons database. Once reconstruction is finished see if you can find our victim in any of their records. Focus parameters to missing within the last six months. Decomp suggests that she was killed about a month ago but Rachel is checking the soil samples on the victim to see if anything in the area could have slowed decomposition. When she finishes running tests we can tighten that window."

"Yes, Dr Michael."

The tall dark skinned man turned and pressed a few buttons on the scanner and climbed up the steps to his office. Man of a few words was Jay, unsurprisingly it was mostly Dr Brennan who could get the most out of Jayamma at any given day. Mainly because she spoke so many different Nigerian dialects so flawlessly.

Keeping himself from glancing up at his mentor he quickly called Cat over and instructed her on how to go about cleaning the remains.

Snapping off his gloves he proceeded to his office. The multi-spectrum scan that Jay did would also provide them with x-rays and he could run the victims dental records. Hoping to get an ID soon he sat down on his desk and started filling in the required paperwork for the FBI so that his consultancy went off without a hitch.

* * *

The call came in just as she was getting up to leave.

"Booth," she muttered slipping on an ear piece, accepting the call.

"Chrissy? It's Michael," came Mikeys voice from the other end. "We've got an ID."

Christine looked down at her timepiece and smirked. Three hours in and they had an ID.

"I'm on my way," she replied cutting the connection and taking off for the elevator.

* * *

She nearly skipped into the lab grinning and found Michael Vincent waiting for her. He returned her grin with his own and ushered her over to the platform swiping his card to avoid the klaxons.

She looked around for the remains only to find empty tables.

"Where's our victim?" she asked her partner.

"Miss Cat's de-fleshing the bones right now, after the bones are clean then we can determine cause of death and identify the murder weapon. For the ID the initial scans were enough. Jay was able to match our victims dental records to a Miss Annette Bannings. The Bannings filed a missing person's report seven weeks ago."

Quickly moving to the station at the platform Christine tapped the UHB* twice and entered her password to bring up the report in question.

"It says here that Annette had been out with her boyfriend but the guy claims to have dropped Annette off at her apartment. Local police talked to him but because there was no indication of foul play the LEOs assumed that she had just run off."

Michael snorted humourlessly. "Ran off right onto our observation table."

Christine sighed. "I'm gonna have to go break the news to the Bannings, but not now. Making a late call in to a residential area to deliver bad news is a big no no. We'll wait till morning."

Michael nodded. "Can I come along?" he asked hopefully.

Christine stopped her pacing and raised an eyebrow at him. "Isn't that what partners do?" At his nod she smiled. "Then yes Mikey, you can come along."

A muted shuffling sound from up top made the newly formed duo turn and look up.

"Mom?" Christine asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hey sweetie." Dr Brennan waved at her daughter her legs swinging over the catwalk as she sat on the walkway. "Don't mind me honey. I'm just observing."

Christine scrunched her nose up at the pet names but refrained from commenting turning instead towards her partner for an explanation.

"Dr Brennan offered her experience and expertise with the case and asked to sit in and observe the progress."

At that moment the main doors slid open once more and in limped her father.

"Bones!" he called out, his cane clicking on the shiny floor with each step. "Chop Chop! Come on baby, time to go!"

Christine rolled her eyes at his antics but smiled as her mom immediately stood up, dusted off her jeans, grabbed her coat and headed towards the stairs.

"Coming, Booth. Did you get dinner?"

"You bet ya! And it'll get cold if you don't hurry up."

"We can just reheat it if it does get cold Booth," the retired Anthropologist answered her husband, exasperated. "Let me talk to Michael Vincent for a moment and then we'll leave, okay?"

"Alright but make it quick."

Her mom swept up the stairs not quite crossing the sensors and swept her up in a big hug. Pulling back she kissed her daughters forehead and Christine closed her eyes, basking in the affection.

Opening and meeting identical blue gray eyes mother and daughter shared a smile and the elder shifted aside to allow the younger to pass by her and hug her father who was leaning on his cane and watching the scene play out with a broad smile on his face.

Christine hugged her dad tightly and turned to watch with him as her mother and her partner conversed.

Brennan handed her successor the notes she had been taking throughout the day and pulled him into her embrace.

"You have made me prouder than I could ever have imagined, Michael Vincent."

"Its all due to you Auntie B."

"Perhaps at the start this was true, when I was teaching you. But for the past five years you have been responsible for your own achievements. And they are achievements worth mentioning. Get some rest. Speaking from experience, in _this_ partnership? The lab work is the easy part."

The two shared a smile before Brennan turned and moved towards her husband. Tucking herself under his arm, Booth and Brennan left the Jeffersonian in the capable hands of their successors.

* * *

Christine and Michael stared after them as Michael came to stand next to her. She gave him a little grin and gestured towards the door.

"Wanna grab a bite?"

Michael considered this, it didn't take him long to decide.

"Let me grab my things," he said and at her nod he climbed up the stairs to his office snatching up his bag and shutting down his computer.

As he did though, his half open bottom drawer caught his eye. Pulling open the drawer he smiled at the picture frame he had hidden there earlier in the day. The innocence of their youth. Fifteen year olds, Christine and Michael, standing in front of the Dinosaur Exhibit, arm in arm, best of friends.

He turned to look down, through the transparent walls of his office at the adult Christine roaming around, downstairs waiting. Tapping her foot. Impatient.

Looking back at the picture, his heart clenched at the reminder of what he had lost when she had left. Again glancing at his partner he put the picture back in the drawer, closed it shut and locked it for good measure. He would give her his friendship, maybe even his trust, but he would never risk his heart with her ever again.

Resolute in this decision he grabbed a coat, shrugging it on and walked quickly down the stairs to meet his impatient partner.

* * *

Christine closed the door to her apartment and wandered to the kitchen. Dropping off her badge and gun in the basket on top of the fridge she pulled out a cold beer, popped off the cap and took a long swig.

Slumping onto her cushy armchair she tapped her UHB and pulled up her constantly perused photos. Draining the bottle dry she reached below her chair and pulled out a half empty bottle of scotch. She hated the stuff but the burn actually numbed some of the pain when real life encroached.

She looked into the young, teenage, smiling face of her partner, gaze unguarded, a contrast to the man she had just had dinner with. Taking a strong swig from the bottle she let the liquid burn her throat and sooth her aching chest.

With a gesture she swiped away Michaels photos and pulled up the pictures from her current case. The gruesome image of the half decomposed remains of Annette Bannings taunted her. Staring she unconsciously recapped the bottle and pushed it back under the chair. Annette didn't deserve an investigator that was going to be hungover in the morning, feeling sorry for themselves.

She would have time to wallow in her own despair, _after_ she dragged the monster who killed this woman, all the way to prison.

* * *

Seeley Booth settled against the headboard as his wife gently massaged some feeling back in his leg. It was a daily ritual for them. He would settle back and let her take care of him, then when she was done he would turn her into a pile of goo with his magic fingers.

"You ever think that maybe we spoiled our daughter?"

Brennans hands stilled momentarily on his leg, then resumed its motion.

"If the question was of spoiling her then I don't think we would have that much of a problem."

"I see you came to the same conclusion as me?" Booth asked lightly as he groaned under her ministrations.

"Possibly," she murmured as they both queitened down to contemplate their supposed conclusions.

Meeting each others eyes they blurted out whatever was on their minds at the same time.

"I think our daughter takes too much after me!"

Which is what they both said at the same time.

Pause.

"..."

"..."

Both parents dissolved into fits of laughter at the absurdity of what they had just done.

Laughing and pulling Brennan up to settle close next to him, Booth rubbed his hand up and down her bicep. Melting into his embrace she sighed as she settled.

"She's hiding herself behind walls, just like I used to do," Brennan admitted sadly.

Booth contemplated this but shook his head. "She may be, but not for the same reasons that you did."

Turning to look at her husband she silently asked him to elaborate.

"Christine is not you Bones. You and she look similar, sure and a lot of your personality is eerily alike, but in reality she never went through the things that you went through as a child. She isn't as jaded as you were, so she doesn't need someone like me to coax her out of her shell and tell her to live a little."

A younger Brennan might have protested her apparent need for coaxing to have fun, but the present day Brennnan was much older and wiser and recognised the truth of his words.

"Christine isn't hiding behind walls, Bones. She's putting up a facade of indifference so as to not overwhelm Michael with her emotions."

Brennan blinked at this.

"Yes, Bones. This is just as much about Michael Vincent as it is about Christine."

Brennan nodded. "I believe that Michael Vincent is happy to have Christine back in his life, but he is wary of her motivations."

Booth grinned down at his wife. "And that's why I'm saying that _Christine_ is right now acting more like me, trying to break down Michael's metaphorocal walls that he's built up when Christine left."

Brennan considered this for a moment then realised he was right. "Oh," she said softly as she realised the implications of this revelation.

Booth kissed the side of Brennan's head. "The thing is Bones," he continued. "as I said, Christine is not as jaded as we were at her age, neither is Michael. They are both a product of healthy homes with stable parents and a good lifestyle."

"What does that mean?"

Booth smiled. "It means that they are adults. Well adjusted adults, they can make their own decisions and mistakes. All we have to do, is be there for them when they need us."

"What do you think of the idea of Michael Vincent as our son in law?"

If Booth had been drinking he would have spat it all out at that question.

"A bit early to be planning weddings isn't it?" he asked his wife hesitantly.

Brennan smiled at him sweetly. "Well if Christine is anything like her father, then she will eventually get what she wants, even if she has to persevere through adversity." At his nod she continued. "And if she's anything like me then she will go after what she wants and most definitely achieve her goals."

Booth smiled and snuggled into his wife. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess the only person I could trust completely with Christine, would be Michael so I wouldn't mind him being officially part of the family."

As Brennan drifted off to sleep in her husbands arms she had a last stray thought that she needed to call Angela, maybe ask her what she thought about Christine joining her family? With a smile of contentment Brennan closed her eyes and dreamt of tiny grandkids getting underfoot.

* * *

He was wearing a path into the linoleum covered floor as he waited for a doctor. At his wits end he looked up hopefully at the mention of his name but couldn't help but be disappointed to see Andrea standing there instead of the doctor.

The irritability was gone the next second as the tenuous control on his emotions finally slipped and tears rolled down his cheeks.

Andi didn't hesitate, falling into his arms and offering whatever comfort she could.

"Babe, what happened? I though you were at lunch with your mum?"

Trying to keep from outright sobbing he employed the techniques his step-mom had showed him to compartmentalise for the moment so that he could break down in private.

Sniffling a little he pulled back to look into Andi's chocolate brown eyes.

"I was at lunch... but... but halfway through she just collapsed." He hated himself as he remembered how he had frozen. "I didn't know what to do! She... she wasn't moving! I thought... I thought... God Andi, I..."

She immediately hugged him to her again offering whatever comfort she could. "Shh. Shh baby, you got her here in the end, right? You called the Ambulance, right?" It seemed to be the wrong thing to say as he ripped himself out of her arms and stalked to the door through which his mom had been wheeled off to.

He shook his head in disgust. "No, I didn't Andi!" he near screamed, all thoughts of compartmentalising out the window. "I just stood there like a fucking idiot until one of the waitresses told me she had called the Ambulance! A _waitress _had to call for an Ambulance before I could help my own mother!" he looked up into the reflective surface of the door, catching sight of his frazzled appearance and turned away in self disgust.

Just as he was about to let another barrage of self-flagellation loose a doctor came looking for them.

"Rebecca Stinsons family!" he asked the only two people present and he rushed to answer.

"Yes I'm her son, is my mum okay!" he asked invading the doctors personal space.

"For now," he replied well used to frantic family members. "I am Gareth Anderson, your mother's Oncologist and we will have to start her second cycle of chemotherapy soon. We had advised Ms Stinson to avoid going to outdoor venues so soon after her first cycle but she refused. Unfortunately she went to the one place that could have done her the most harm since it contains the most pathogens; a restaurant!" The doctor scoffed at his patients stupidity. "Fortunately the first set of antibiotics are improving her condition but I advise you sir to see to it that your mother no longer..."

"Wait wait wait!" he yelled stopping the doctor. His blood had gone cold and Andi had let out an involuntary gasp at the word _Oncologist_, he had barely registered all the other things this doctor spewed in his detached, uncaring way. "What do you mean Oncologist? Chemotherapy? First Cycle! What the fuck are you talking about!

The doctor frowned and consulted his chart. "You _are_ Parker Booth? Listed as next of kin to one Rebecca Stinson are you not?" At his nod he smirked. "Well you two must not be too close if your mother contracted Bone Cancer and didn't bother to tell you about it."

Parker grabbed him by the lapels and shoved him against the wall.

"Parker!" Andi screamed.

"Don't talk about her that way." He whispered releasing him as Andi laid a restraining hand on his arm.

Regaining his composure and moving slightly out of Parker's reach the doctor continued. "Well as I said, once the fever goes down we will start the next cycle of chemo..."

He was once again interrupted by Parker. "Don't bother," he said firmly his eyes glistening with unshed tears even as he mentally ran down a list of all the cancer specialists he knew. "I'm discharging her as soon as her fever goes down. And I'm getting a second opinion."

The doctor shrugged indifferently. "As you wish. Discharge forms are at the front desk. You can see her now, but only through the observation window. She's being treated in a clean room for now."

The couple barely responded as the doctor swept past them in a huff. Finally after standing there shell-shocked for five minutes, Andi pushed Parker to move to the observation room.

As he looked down at his mother's frail form, the doctor's unfeeling words came back to him. "Chemotherapy... First Cycle... Must not be too close... Bone Cancer?

Flipping open his phone Parker called his assistant at work. Clearing his throat he tried to deliver a precise order.

"Y-yeah, hello. Becky book me and my mother an emergency medical patient flight to Washington DC tomorrow afternoon... Y-yes... Make sure that they have a quarantine room... Yes... Thank you."

Shutting off his phone he leaned his forearm against the glass and rested his forehead against his arm. Andi rubbed his back in silent support as he looked on at his mum strapped to the bed with various tubes going in and out of her body.

"Why didn't she tell me, Andi!" he whispered brokenly as more tears slipped out. "Why didn't she say anything!"

Andy couldn't answer that question, all she could do was be there for her fiancé.

* * *

**_Subplots! Parker's here, hope you like his intro. Tell me with reviews, if you can. Thank you for reading! Bye! _**


	5. Chapter 5

The knocking on the door was incessant, he buried his head under his pillow but the sound didn't stop. Finally fed up Michael stumbled out of his bed and zombie walked out his bedroom, down the hall and flung open the door squinting at the chirpy door knocker while rubbing his eyes clear of sleep.

"Wah..!? Chrissy!" he gasped finally identifying the glowing face surrounded by the halo of morning sunlight. "Do you know what time it is!"

She grinned at him shoving a large cup of coffee at him carefully avoiding looking any lower than his neckline. He was no body builder by any means, but the body he had built was all 'very yum' as Ana would say.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart!" she cheered. "Welcome to the early bird investigations of FBI consultancy. We've got a two hour drive to the victim's house so get ready to move in five, Baby!" She knew she was channelling her dad, but Michael was, notoriously, not a morining person. So she knew she had to be firm.

Watching his boxer covered, disgruntled ass slump back towards the bedroom, trying not to slosh any of the hot coffee on his bare body she followed him in and wandered to his living room to peruse his shelves.

With the existence of the UHB* and near limitless holographic screen size a TV set wasn't the norm in a modern house, unless you were Seeley Booth and were still hanging on to the 64" Set that you had gotten on your promotion gifted by your wife.

Michael's shelves, though, held a multitude of items ranging from gifts and souvenirs from various digs and trips he had taken to all corners of the globe. Nothing personal was displayed for visitors to gaze upon, though and she guess she understood. He wasn't very expressive when it came to personal relationships. For a long time she had been his only friend. Then...

"Chrissy!" came a call from down the hall.

"Yeah!" she hollered back, placing the possibly fifteenth century medallion back on the shelf and moving towards her partners voice.

"C-could you hand me my towel from my closet! I forgot to bring it with me!"

This would have been fine if he had had an ensuite bathroom but his tiny apartment only seemed to have one, and it was not in his room.

Nodding even though he couldn't see and completely willing to move things along she yelled that she was getting his towel.

Walking down to the end of the hall she came to his room, which was one of two rooms, the othet being the guest room.

Now this seemed more personal. Unmade bed and bedside UHB spoke of bachelor pad, but the various scientific journals and forensic case files all in neat stacks on the far shelf spoke of a scientist's secondary lair.

A miniature vision of her mother caught her eye and she looked once again and realised that it was a reflection in his far wall mirror that showed the collection of personal photographs and memoribila that lined the opposite wall.

Not being able to help it, she padded over to his shelf and perused it for, what? She wasn't even sure. There was a baseball, from the only game they had attended, where a home run had given him a black eye.

The football that was gifted from her dad that he played once with her brothers and declared that he wasn't built for full contact sports.

The first artifact he had unearthed on their first family anthropological dig vacation. His various doctorates proudly displayed.

Pictures, actual pictures; not holopics, of Micheal with Auntie Ange and Uncle Jack. A photo with his baby sister who came along ten years after he was born. Cleo Joy Hodgins-Montenegro was now a freshmen at Georgetown University.

Making her genius squint family proud as she entered an accelerated program to breeze through the high school curriculum and qualify for her first doctorate. Unsurprisingly Cleo and her had lost contact when she had joined the Academy, but maybe she would swing by her college after this case was closed. Catch-up.

There were four separate frames that had been put face down on the shelves. Her unconsciously analytical mind identified the action as recent as yesterday since the dust on the shelf was constant with no visible cleaner surface underneath the frame.

Lifting one frame she gazed upon the candid shot of her and him, by the beach, on one of the Booth family's famous two week vacations. Recognising her aunts handiwork she smiled at the memories then frowned as she realised why the frame was face down. Lifting another one, this one of just her smiling at the camera as she walked across a vineyard. The sundress on her was light and the sun was outlining her body, but the distance of the camera man didn't allow the shot to look indecent.

This was taken by Michael, proving that he was his mother's son. This was two weeks before she left. Her throat dry all of a sudden as she studied her own face. Carefree. Elated. This had been their date. Their first date. The next week they had gone dancing and Micheal had confessed that he was afraid of messing this up. He was afraid that he would destroy their friendship if they continued down this path.

She had kissed him and told him that they would always be friends. Always.

"Chrissy!" his voice echoed down the hall shaking her from her reverie.

"Coming!" she yelled back her voice not betraying her emotions.

Snatching the towel from his closet she marched out of the room and opened the bathroom door unceremoniously tossing the towel in.

"I'll be waiting in the car! Hurry up Michael Vincent!"

"I'd have been a lot more quicker if I had gotten the towel five minutes ago!"

Ignoring his jibe she stomped out of his apartment, near slamming the door closed and running down the three flights of stairs to burn off the nervous energy she suddenly seemed to have gained.

Leaning against the cool steering wheel of her government issue truck she took a few deep breaths and tried to clear her mind. It wouldn't do for Michael to know exactly how much he affected her. How much it meant that he had kept those photos of her. How much it had hurt to realise again how much pain she had caused.

Pulling up the car terminal she rifled through her personal device and found her mothers letter. Perusing the contents she shuddered at her mistakes and let a few tears leak. Quickly wiping them away before her partner could see. She shut down the link and readied herself for the two hour ride to West Virginia as Michael Vincent walked out of his building.

* * *

Michael Vincent checked and double checked his bag for all that he would need for his morning trip. Calling in to work he set about assigning his team their tasks for the day and telling them he would be late coming in. Still getting used to being a consultant for the FBI, more so being partners with his former best friend, he unconsciously tied up his satchel, grabbed the case files; their current and Howard Epps one, and moved to exit his room.

He paused as he saw something out of place. Walking to his shelf he studied his various paraphernalia and identified the odd one out. He had slammed all of these pictures of her face down after having dinner with her. It was petty but he was angry more at himself than at her.

He was supposed to have moved on from her. This wasn't some TV soap opera drama where the lost girlfriend comes back into the jaded scientist's life and they rekindle their romance. This was real life and yet one bat of her eye lashes and he was up and at 'em, already acquiescing to her every whim.

She was not supposed to have come back, which was a stupid thought in hindsight because of course she was going to come back! This was where her family was. He had deluded himself by thinking that they would never see each other again. Some genius he was.

Looking at her picture, which Christine had obviously straightened back up, he wondered; not for the first time, of she had already known she was leaving him? Their dance had been for a couple of years. Their majors in science made them close study buddies even in college and they didn't really stray from their tight knit, two person, group much.

Their coming together had happened naturally and when he had asked her out, she had agreed out of hand almost immediately. He thought he was in a dream, those first few weeks. Their time was spent close together, stealing kisses wherever they could. She was happy. So happy. He thought so at the time anyways.

Grabbing the downturned photos he opened another bottom draw and shoved them inside. Snatching the one that she had put upright, the one in the vineyard, he went to put it with the rest but hesitated.

Kicking the bottom draw closed he locked the three photos in there and put the other one inside the top drawer of his bedside cabinet. He was just asking for trouble wasn't he?

Grabbing his slightly lukewarm coffee, recognising his previous flavour preference on his tongue he sipped the beverage, shouldering his satchel and moving out to meet his partner.

Day one of the Booth and Hodgins-Montenegro partnership was about to begin. Thinking they needed to figure out a better name for their pairing he rode the elevator down and walked to her SUV donning a pair of light sunglasses to atleast hide some of his reactions to her close presence next to him. He should probably get used to it, two hours on the road was probably pretty short for most of their trips in this partnership.

* * *

They were in the road soon enough and the silence was sort of killing them. The uncomfortable oppression of nothingness pressing down on them.

Michael had greeted her cordially, now fully present and then had opened their case file and started perusing it.

This was well and good once she was getting out of the city but now that they were on their way to Virginia with virtually no traffic, she was bored.

Sighing and closing the file he finally whipped of those ridiculous sunglasses. It wasn't even seven thirty!

"Well, I would say it's impossible but for all intents and purposes it seems as if the killer is Howard Epps."

"Wait, what?" she asked glancing at him, thankful for breaking of the silence but still concerned at his conclusions.

"The meticulous way the body was positioned? The exact number of strikes on the parietal bone? The way she was buried? Her age, hair color...?

"Woah, Woah, Woah!" she interupted his ramblings as she hit the freeway and opened up the throttle . "Stop for a second, Sherlock! Leave the speculating to us cops okay? You and your squints should stick to the facts."

Michael Vincent frowned at her, perplexed. "Why?"

Christine blinked at him in surprise. "Why? What do you mean why? Isn't that what scientists are supposed to do? Stick to the facts? Evidence is everything and speculation is pointless conjecture?" she was being as animated as she could be while driving interstate.

Michael looked at her still surprised. "In the lab? Yes, of course I insist that all my colleagues work with hard evidence and don't have preconceived notions about the results of our experiments. But this is a murder investigation, Chrissy. And the lab and the scientists are only a part of what solves a murder investigation.

"We have the facts here," he tapped the file he had been perusing. "But we need to determine a lot more than just what the lab can tell us. Your work? The sleuthing part? The detecting part? Profiling? Modus Operandi? That's important as well.

"The reason why the Booth and Brennan partnership worked was because their was a _Booth_ to her _Brennan_. Besides I took Criminal Psychology as a minor two years into my doctorate so a lot of this is also part of my work."

"What? When did you get the time to do that, with your three doctorates?"

Michael sighed, hoping that this topic wouldn't have had to be discussed. "After you left, I found myself with a lot of time on my hands. I signed up for a couple of units, then discovered that I sort of liked it so I finished another unit as I got my first doctorate. During the other two I signed up for the rest."

Christine refused to let the sudden dispassionate tone of his voice tamper with their lively discussion. She could avoid the searing pain in her chest at the idea that her absence left a large enough hole in his life that he managed to sign up for an entire bachelors degree to fill up the time lost.

"Wow. I didn't know that."

Michael shrugged then decided to turn it back in her. "Just so you know, there will be a time when I might call on to your help in the lab."

Christine's eyes widened as she over took the slow poke in her lane. "My help? What would you need my help for!"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Are you really going to sit their and say that you didn't complete your bachelors in forensic arts and your masters in forensic anthropology? Considering who my mentor is?"

Christine sighed. She had really hoped that her mother hadn't mentioned that tidbit to the entire scientific community, especially when after gaining her degrees, she had disappointed her by following in her father's footsteps instead of her mother's. She had never said so but Christine knew how proud her mom was when she had gotten her degrees, hearing news of her acceptance at Quantico probably would have crushed her. One more reason to not really return home. She had disappointed a lot of people.

"I have no qualifications, Mikey. I didn't complete my internships. I'm not officially licensed and I don't have a doctorate."

Michael nodded. "Yes but you do have a Masters and at the end of the day it's my decision who to let on that platform. I know how good you are. I've seen it first hand, so don't be surprised if I call you in the middle of the night to look at a pile of bones." He smiled at her trying to cheer her up. Still trying.

It worked as she smiled softly at him. The rest of the ride was spent talking about things she had missed while she was in Virginia. Ball games, her interests. Science conventions, his interests. Comic cons, their interests. Video games, her. Books, his. Movies, theirs. They lapsed into a familiar rapport that had been established way way back in their infancy. Something that, try as they might could not be erased.

* * *

The talk with the Bannings went as well as could be hoped that something like this would go. Both extremely empathic people they physically felt the victims parents pain and tried to reassure them that they would do all they could to find their daughters killer.

Asking tough questions to a grieving couple about their dead daughter took a special kind of patience and understanding, both investigators were raised with an innate sense of propreity so they patiently extracted all the information that they had before leaving the Bannings to their grief.

The partners were exhausted by the time they got back in the SUV and didn't really talk much on the ride back to DC. The interview with the boyfriend would take place at the Hoover since the boy worked in the city.

Michael fielded more than a few phone calls while they rode back. Particulates examined revealed nothing out of the ordinary and the cleaned bones were ready for his inspection as soon he came in.

At a quarter to one at they hit stateside her phone rang and she tapped the link to bring up her mother on the holoscreen.

"Hey, mom."

"Hey sweetie. Are yoh driving? Oh Michael Vincent, hello," she beamed at her former student. "First ride along?"

"Yes, Auntie B."

"Oh well I hope it's as fun as I remember it being."

"We went to notify the Bannings about their daughter, mom." Christine answered gently, her mother, while not expressive was a very empathic person who identified a lot with the grief of others. She knew what it was like to lose parents and children, Christine still remembered stories of the prodigy that was Michael Vincent's namesake, her favourite intern Vincent Nigel Murray. The FBI Profiler Lance Sweets, the young man they considered their own. Both lost boys her mother had loved as her own.

Her mom's face fell. "Yes," she said clearing her throat. "Those are never fun."

"Was it something you needed Mom? We're just entering the City now."

"Oh, yes. Your brother needs a ride home from college. His graduation is in two weeks and I need to take him out to get his robes fitted. I would pick him up but I have a three o'clock meeting with my publisher to prepare for."

Christine perked up at this. She hadn't seen Hank in months. "I'll get Hank, mom. Don't worry! You just concentrate on your meeting."

"Thank you, sweetie. Michael Vincent? I won't be coming in to observe today but I would appreciate being apprised of any progress in the investigation."

"Of course, Auntie B. I'll forward the case files to you after I clock out."

"Thanks you, Michael. Christine I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, bye mom."

"Bye."

Christine waited for the traffic light before turning towards her brothers campus.

"I can't believe Hanks graduating," she said to no one but Michael answered anyway.

"Yeah!" he agreed. "He seemed excited last week, when we met. He wants to get into the Academy soon."

Christine almost rear ended the car in front as she whipped her face towards her partner.

"Academy!" she gasped, shocked.

"Not Quantico," he hastened to explain. "He wants to make Detective in the MPD."

Christine didn't look any calmer. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? Does dad know? What about mom? How do _you_ know?"

"Well, Hank majored in Criminal Profiling but minored in forensic science. He didn't do an internship but he consulted me on a few assignments here and there and we meet up over lunch sometimes to go over his assignments. He got in on his football scholarship as you know but he really wanted to earn his degree."

"Yeah, but the Police Department? Really?"

Michael shrugged. "He's a good kid, and he wants to make a difference, just like his big sis." he smiled across the console at her and got a smile back.

"He's still got a lot of explaining to do," she said frowning at the front vehicle. Rush hour traffic was torture.

"Go easy on him," he advised. "He really looks up to you."

Christine didn't say anything else but the soft smile didn't leave her.

* * *

Pulling up next to the campus gates she got out with her partner and leaning against her car, observed the college community as they waited for her brother.

UDC had so many memories for them. She remembered studying under that awning right next to the campus balcony. Sharing kisses in the rain. Sneaking across campuses to celebrate achievements. Wandering around the fountains hand in hand looking forward to the future.

Surprisingly despite what had happened between them he didn't feel the bitterness creep in as he stood next to her and observed their old stomping grounds.

She was also reminiscing but like him she wasn't anguished about this place. It held some of the happiest memories of her short life shared with the man next to her and she was always happy to revisit them.

Hank was quick to exit the campus gates but was stopped on the way out by a girl with long chestnut hair and pretty green eyes. She glanced speculatively at the waiting pair by the SUV then pulled him behind the pillar.

Two minutes later a grinning Hank Booth II was sprinting towards his sister.

Unconsciously Christine mirrored his movements and they met halfway where Hank lifted his sister up in his strong arms and swung her around in a circle, all the while, proper decorum forgotten FBI Supervisory Special Agent Christine Booth, became just Christine, an older sister greeting her grown up younger brother. She laughed as he lifted her up. And as she settled back down she squeezed him with all her might.

Hank Booth had his father's built and his mother's height making him an impressive figure as he cut through a crowd. But his boyish smile and good looks belied the intelligent mind hiding behind the jock exterior. In a lot of ways his father's son, the boy was true protector and was fiercely loyal to his family. School break was up and a lot of his friends were making their way to party's and meet ups for the summer. He was just looking forward to making it home. He had missed his family. And it finally looked like it was gong to be whole again.

Speaking of family. "Mikey?"

"Hank," Michael shook the younger man's hand as he looked speculatively between his sister and his sort of tutor slash friend.

Michael decided to explain the circumstances before Hank got the wrong idea and blurted it out.

"I'm your sisters new partner in crime solving."

Hank frowned in contemplation before his eyes widened in realisation. And he beamed at his sister. "You got promoted!" he laughed.

She socked him in the shoulder as she moved to open her door. "You don't have to act so surprised, you're talking to Supervisory Special Agent Booth, now mister."

His laugh got louder but more genuine. "Wow, that's great, sis. Congrats." He said as he climbed in the back seat and stowing his luggage behind him.

"Thanks. Although, from what I hear, I'm not the only Booth kid gunning for a law enforcement career."

"Mikey, you promised!"

"Hey I promised not to tell Auntie B or Agent Booth, besides she had persuasion skills that I have no defences for." he was too late in figuring out how _that _sentence could be construed.

There was a moment of silence before.

"Dude! I do not want to hear about my sisters _persuasion skills_. God, I'm gonna have to brush when I get home, I think I just threw up in my mouth."

Michael had turned a deep shade of red two seconds after he had uttered those words and was trying, unsuccessfully to refute Hank's conclusions.

Christine had barked out a laugh at Michael's faux pas and was silently giggling at her partners foot in mouth slip.

Finally after getting control of herself she pulled out into traffic but not before getting a jab in at her brother.

"From what I saw you were being persuaded pretty well by Miss Green Eyes, back there."

Hank blushed but also puffed his chest out a little. He had absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about in regard to his girlfriend. Leaving high-school he had never thought about settling so soon after college, but finding the right person makes all the difference.

Two years into his relationship with Keeli and he was still enraptured. It helped that he had grown up with one of the greatest examples of a symbiotic relationship between two people who loved each other. The examples that his parents set were only too easy to follow once he had encounterd the indomitable Ms Keeli Marshall. He had taken the better part of a year to break down her walls and the next two to show her that he was there, he was hers and he was never leaving her. Making commitments like that, when he was so young could seem foolish but he while he was uncertain about a lot of things, she was the one sure thing in his life. And he was not letting go. Not one bit.

Lounging in the back seat of his sisters SUV he sent a Booth charm smile to his sister. "Yup, she can be very persuasive when she wants to be."

He grinned as his sister barely avoided clipping the curb as she swerved off lane at his words. "Oh, you just wait, Hank Booth. You and I are going to have words very soon."

"Looking forward to it sis," he replied cheekily as he anticipated the conversation. He himself had a few tidbits to pass to his elder sister. Here's to hoping she might just listen to him.

* * *

The flight from London to DC was harrowing. Rebecca woke up sporadically and in the interim Parker paced and worried himself silly. He opened and closed his phone, wishing he could call but knowing that calling them would only make more people worry. He needed to be doing something, he was feeling caged. Never before had he wanted to run more than when he couldn't run any where.

Just minutes before landing Rebecca opened her eyes the longest and Parker scrubbed in to go talk to her.

Donning on a hair net and gloves he entered the quarantine pod and sat next to his mother.

Rebecca smiled at her son as a tear slipped down her cheek. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Hey," she said strongly smiling at him.

Parker shook with surpressed emotions but he took her hand and looked deep into her eyes.

"I will make this right mum," he promised. "You're going to be okay." Parker tore his eyes from hers after his declaration. He would be strong. He would not break.

"Parker. Honey, look at me." He did. And he broke. Falling into his mother's embrace he wept for his mother and for himself as the final checks for landing was made and they started the descent.

* * *

*_UHB - Universal Hyperlink Bus. A holographic interface device that allows people in this future to access personal files from any UHB device through fingerprint authentication._

* * *

**_Another one in the bank. Not much of a case chap, more of a character development chappy. Hanks here, tell me what you think! Bye. _**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Just as a warning, some of the vocabulary as spoken in the killers mind is a little crass. I apologise if any of this language offends you. That was not my intention. Enjoy!_**

* * *

He rocked back and forth, head in hands as he moaned pitifully at his mistake. He had given in! He had betrayed his Master's word and allowed her to bewitch him with her body.

The slut had done the devil's deed and pulled him into her and he had gone with her.

Halfway through, his Master's words flashed in his mind and instead of the blonde whore underneath him he envisioned the redheaded beauty, the daughter of the partners his Master had cautioned against.

In his anger he had put his hand around her neck and squeezed until she no longer struggled, but not before his release.

Now in his bed she lay, lifeless eyes staring up at him, all his work now destroyed in a fit of lust and hatred. He couldn't do the same to her as the others. _They_ would know. He had left too much evidence.

With a shuddering breath he picked up his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart.

"Yes my son?" came the voice on the other end.

"Bless me father for I have sinned, against my Master."

There was a pause. "Where are you?" he told the Father. "I'm on my way."

The line cut off and he stood up to wash her filth off him. It wouldn't do for the Father to see him in this state.

* * *

The partners decided that since his examination of the cleaned bones would take all afternoon, they would be better off dropping Michael off and then taking Hank home. Christine agreed and did just that.

As she pulled away from the Jeffersonian she felt keen eyes on her. Glancing at her brother, who had now taken Michael's seat, she saw his eyes on her. The warning glance she sent him made him back off but he let her know, silently, that they would be talking about it soon. Yay!

"So, Police Academy, huh?" she asked slyly, knowing full well that she was deflecting.

Hank groaned. "Your boyfriend has a big mouth! Those squints sure do like to gossip don't they?"

"Hey!" she defended. "It's slipped out, he didn't mean to tell me and I'm sure if he says he didn't tell Mom and Dad, then he didn't tell them."

Hank smiled secretly at her defence of Michael Vincent but didn't comment, choosing to gloss over it.

"So, do you think Mom's got lunch ready?" he asked eagerly.

"For your bottomless put? I would say she got the buffet ready."

"Hey, I resent that! I'm a growing boy and l need a lot of proteins and nutrients to maintain this rig."

He arrogantly displayed his tight t-shirt'd torso.

Christine snorted. "I'm sure Ms Green Eyes appreciates your efforts."

He chuckled back at her comback. "I hope she does," he commented his eyes going glassy at the thought of his girlfriend.

"She must be really special," she commented noting his contented look.

"She is."

"You're really into this girl, huh?" she noted as she maneuvered swiftly through the afternoon traffic.

He shrugged but nodded. "I'm bringing her to meet mom and dad this weekend."

Her eyes widened at that. "Meeting the family? This early?"

He smirked. "Two years long enough for you Chrissy?"

"What's her name?"

"Why, gonna do a background check on her Miss FBI?"

"That's Agent FBI to you buddy. And I probably need to recommend a CAT scan for her if she's decided put her lot in with the likes of you." The smirk she sent his way made him go into peals of laughter.

Once he'd gathered himself back up he answered her question. "Her name's Keeli, Keeli Marshall. Dig all you want, she's clean. Although her family life isn't that great."

Christine raised an eyebrow at that, concern evident.

"She wouldn't admit it when I asked, but Criminal Psychology kind of gives you this window into people's behaviour and process. I'm not saying I profiled her but she gives off this vibe you know?"

Christine nodded. "Abusive household?" she asked gently.

"I think so," he admitted despondent. "She never said, but she never went home during any of the breaks except summer. And she never wants to talk about her family, yet she let's me blab about mine all the time."

Christine took one of Hank's fidgeting hands in hers and squeezed gently in support.

"Hey, she's an adult now," she comforted. "If she was being abused, then she doesn't have to go back to that house anymore."

Hank shook his head no. "She's not from money, got into UDC purely on acedmic scholarship. She's wicked smart but paying off school loans and job hunting in DC? She's gonna have to move back in with her parents for a while till she gets her feet under her."

Christine frowned. "Sounds like you've got some solution in the works?"

Hank sighed staring out the window as they got closer and closer to home. "Yeah, maybe. I would find an apartment and ask her to move in, but..."

Christine nodded. "You want to join the Academy and that's another three years where you won't be earning to support her."

"Hey she's smart enough to support herself, but she needs time to hunt for jobs. She's got applications sent to a lot of different places for internships, but even then, half pay will make apartment hunting even worse and I just don't see a way out except for her living with her parents for at least another four to six months."

"Talk to mom and dad," she said immediately. "They can help her, Hank."

He didn't say anything as the house grew closer and got out as soon as she stopped. Feeling for her brother she got out herself and pulled his rucksack out of the back of her car as she watched with a soft smile as Hank ran into the arms of his waiting mother.

* * *

Wendell Bray looked up from his paperwork as his secretary knocked on the door.

"Your four o'clock is here Dr Bray."

He nodded amicably. "Let her in Miss Martin."

She let in a young woman with long chestnut coloured hair and striking green eyes, she was dressed smartly, her hair in a loose ponytail and light make up complementing her natural good looks. She looked a bit timid, which was gonna have to change if she wanted to work in such a competitive environment as the Jeffersonian.

He wouldn't make snap judgements though, Wendell decided as he offered the young woman a seat.

"So, Miss Marshall." he read off of her resume, choosing to go with Cam's approach for interviewing interns. "Are you interested in Forensic Anthropology or just a fan of Dr Brennan's books."

Secretly smiling as her indignation rose, he perused the rest of her resume. Oh, yes. She would fit in here nicely.

* * *

Brennan bustled around the kitchen as her two children sat on the island counter chatting. Christine had admitted that until the Lab figured out something new, all she had to do at the office was paperwork. So Brennan had insisted that she stay for supper and dinner when her father got home.

Christine, never one to turn down a home cooked meal and eager to spend more time with her family, conceded with not too much resistance.

"So, Booth and Hodgins, eh?" asked Hank wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously.

Christine rolled her eyes. "Hodgins-Montenegro. Which reminds me, we need a good name for our partnership. Booth and Brennan rolled of the tongue so easily. Booth and Hodgins-Montenegro? Too much! Why did Auntie Ange have to hyphenate?"

Brennan smiled at her daughter indulgently. "Your aunt and uncle got married at the height of the feminist movement. She was a staunch feminist, still is even though she doesn't agree with most of the extremists."

Hank laughed. "Yeah mom, talk about feminism, you didn't even take Dad's name at all."

Brennan shook her head. "And how would that have sounded? Booth and Booth? Even if we hyphenated, Brennan-Booth is as bad as Hodgins-Montenegro. Besides I didn't take your father's name, not because of feminism but more because I needed to hold on to that identity. I wasn't born Temperance Brennan, but that is the name that I got my doctorates with, the name I wrote my books with, and that was the name that the world knew me as. Your father understood that. However I do consider myself a Booth by marriage and am proud to belong to the Booth family. This is why I made your dad give all of you his surname, not mine."

As she busied herself with the salad a link opened up and her husbands face appeared across the counter. Accepting the call she turned her attention to the holoscreen.

"Hello, Booth."

"Hey Bones, listen I want to bounce something off of you."

She nodded, not at all a stranger to frequent consultations from him. "Sure, go ahead," she allowed even as the kids, out of sight stopped talking to listen in.

"So, this kid. New at Major Crimes, was digging through some old files and came up with more than a dozen cold cases with a killer with basically the same MO."

"Hmm, which is?" she asked as she grated some feta into the salad.

"Stab wound two inches apart at the sternum, not near the heart but the centre. The chest cavity is penetrated but here's the kicker. All of the victims have been sucked dry of the last drop of blood. Like a Vampire."

Brennan raised an eyebrow. "I highly doubt, Booth that a creature from children's horror stories is responsible for this person death."

Hank and Christine snickered off to the side as Booth laughed at her answer.

"Yeah, Bones. I figured that part out myself. What I want to know is why? Why do this? What could be the purpose?"

Brennan pursed her lips. "I'd rather not speculate, Booth. Can you give me autopsy reports and x-rays of the victims. Full body scans if possible."

"Already done!" he answered tapping a few times on his UHB and swiping forward.

His screen centered as a multitude of different panels opened up around it showing tox screen reports, autopsy results, medical history and so on.

The former FBI consultant stared at all the information, mumbling to herself, though loud enough for her audience to hear. "Hmm. Looks like some type of custom made blood extracting needle that pierces the aorta at two separate places. I would assume that the victim would be hung upside down for the entire exsanguination to take place."

She deliberated for a minute then pulled up all the victims medical history lining them up side by side.

Glancing at another panel she studied the tox screen. "General Anesthetic used to subdue victims?"

Booth nodded. "Yup."

"Look at their blood work! All the victims have the same blood type!"

Booth blinked. "How did I miss that?"

Brennan huffed. "It's not your job to catch that Booth," she lectured sternly. "It's the Agent In Charge of this investigation who should have consulted his forensic team to discover this pattern."

Christine and Hank shared a smile at their mother's defence of their father, even from himself.

Booth nodded quickly not wanting to rile her up over the phone.

"So what does this mean?" he asked his wife.

Brennad thought for a second. "It means they _needed_ the blood. _This specific_ _type_ of blood. This isn't a sick act done for a psychopathic fixation. This person or someone they are treating needs this type of blood."

"So what? You think someone dying from a disease, needs constant blood transfusions and are killing people to get this blood?" His tone was incredulous but Brennan was nodding along with his conclusions.

"Yes," she answered all thoughts of salad dressing forgotten. The siblings watched the familiar byplay still fascinated at their dynamic.

"That is ridiculous, go to the hospital, they have tonnes of bags full of the stuff to hook you up."

Brennan smiled at her husband's naivete , oh how the tables turn. "Booth, not everyone can afford health care in this country. And not everyone has access to basic health care facilities all the time. And let's not forget that this is the rarest blood type you can have, so no Booth there aren't _tonnes_ of bags of this stuff lying around."

Booth slumped his shoulders but he was nodding in understanding.

"Look for someone in the health care profession, some one diagnosed with leukemia or aplastic anemia or a similar disease that requires constant transfusions. Patients of those types of disease with that particular blood type? Should be easy enough to find. Oh and you said this is a cold case?" At his nod she continued. "So we would have to assume that this patient either died or was cured of their disease. Look at residents of rural areas or areas of high population but with low number of health care facilities. Check within those parameters and you will find your killer."

Booth grinned at his wife. "Bones you just profiled my perp for me!"

"Not true, I used the information you gave me and came to a conclusion using the facts without any supposition or speculation."

The grin was still in place. "Yeah. So you say Bones, so you say."

At her huff and her defensive stance with hands on her hips blowing strands of hair out of her face, he decided to quit while he was ahead and said he would give her _conclusions _to Major Crimes and see what they come up with.

"Thanks for your help, Bones."

"You're welcome, Booth. Have you had lunch?" she asked pleasantly.

Booth shook his head, no. "Had to man the stations."

She frowned in disapproval. The tables had turned indeed. "Can you come home early? Hank and Christine are here and Christine is staying for dinner."

Booth perked up at most of his family being under one roof and checked his desk. "I can be finished in half an hour and be off."

"Then do so Booth, please." she implored her husband. "You really shouldn't be missing meals."

Booth smiled ironically at her but didn't comment. "I'll be home soon, Bones. Love you."

"Love you, too."

"Bye." he said finally and cut the connection.

Brennan smiled happily to herself and got back to work, two minute later she realised that the kitchen had gone very quiet. Looking up she wondered at her two children who were looking at her with open mouths in shocked silence.

"What?" she asked them self-consciously.

"Mom," said Christine still a little hit shell-shocked. "You just closed an eighteen victim cold case that has been sitting in the FBI vaults for the better part of the last six years, _over supper!"_

Brennan smiled self deprecating. She was never shy about accepting praise from colleagues or friends, even Booth. But for some reason when her children praised her she got all fidgety. Booth so liked to tease her for it.

Hiding her blush by turning to fetch the pasta she tried to demure, which she was not very good at.

"I agree that I may have contributed in solving the case but the case certainly isn't closed. Booth will have to notify Major Crimes and one of your colleagues will go and search for the perpetrator."

Hank laughed and moved around the island to grab his mom in a bear hug. "You really are a Supermom aren't you Mom?"

Never one to reject her children's affections Brennan returned the hug ten fold and ruffled his hair, making him chuckle and try to half heartedly dodge her hand.

Christine smiled at the scene. Her mom really was a Supermom. It was good to be back home.

* * *

Home. He hadn't called this part of the world home in a long long while. But a sense of relief settled in him as he finally got his mother resting in the fully furnished private room in MedStars long term ward.

Sitting at her bedside he breathed a sigh of relief as he recalled the doctors report that she was finally rid of the strep throat that had hospitalised her. Her immune system, so weak after her first cycle of chemotherapy, hadn't been able to fight off such a weak bacterial infection. She was slowly being weaned off of the antibiotics but her body still needed rest until they would adminster the second round of chemo.

Parker still couldn't believe what his mum was going through. Words like Cancer and Chemotherapy floated around in his head, taunting him. He hadn't slept at all last night, and even now jetlagged and fatigued he still couldn't close his eyes to sleep and not see his mother lying prone, being pumped full of antibiotics.

He abruptly stood up, snatching up his phone and walking up to the nurses station down the hall.

Trying to clear his gruff throat he asked to speak to the nurse in charge. Seconds later a matronly looking nurse walked up to him smiling gently.

"What seems to be the trouble, Mr Booth?" she asked kindly, shooing away a younger nurse who was trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I... uh... I need to run some erands, inform some family members about... about my m-mum. I need someone to stay with her while I'm gone..." he trailed off uncertainly as the woman, Nurse Jenner by her name tag, patted his shoulder in understanding.

"Kelly!" she called out down the hall and the young girl who had been spying on them creeped back in. "Come 'ere and make yourself useful." when she approached she smiled at Parker blushing to her bottle blonde roots, he barely paid her any mind.

"Mr Booth here has some things to do, so you sit with his mother while he does them."

Kelly nodded agreeably even as Parker avoided her searching eyes.

"Change shifts with Lanie in an hour, you hear me?" she damanded of the girl who nodded.

"Y-yes Nurse Jenner," and scurried off to Rebecca's room.

Parker ran a tired hand over his two day stubbled face while thanking the Nurse then ran for the elevators.

Reaching ground floor he hailed a cab and directed it to his destination.

The hustle and bustle of midtown DC gave way to the quiet suburban streets of the residential areas. Twenty minutes later he was handing the driver his charge in British Pounds and telling him to keep the change as he exited the cab into a familiar looking driveway.

His suit jacket slung over his shoulder, Parker Booth looked in on the brightly lit room where his remaining family had gathered for dinner. He could clearly see his dad kissing Bones as he passed her with a bowl of mashed potatoes. He could see the back of, what could only be, his little brothers head and sitting opposite him, staring curiously out the window and right at him, he caught the eyes of his little sister.

* * *

Christine was shaking her head at the antics of his family as the boisterous Booths jostled and kiddded each other through the setting of the dinner table.

Having done her part she settled in and chatted with Hank as her dad carried the last of the food to the table.

Being off duty didn't stop her from being hyper-aware of her surroundings so she didn't miss the taxi stopping at their address and the shabbily dressed man exit the cab. After arguing with the driver for a moment he straightened up and moved closer to the house. His appearance could only be described as bedraggled. She though she recognised him from somewhere. He was sporting a five o'clock shadow and had untidy curlish hair that was a little too long to look professional.

He seemed to be looking into their dining room which seemed a bit rude and sent alarm bells ringing in her head until... until he locked his eyes on hers. She _recognised_ those eyes.

Standing up suddenly with a big smile on her lips she yelled out his name and ran for the door.

"Parker?! Dad! Parkers outside," she screamed at her father as she wrenched open the door and sprinted to her older brother.

Hanks eyes widened as he looked out the window and recognised the figure that his sister launched herself on to. Out like a shot he chased after Christine yelling back at his parents that it was indeed Parker.

Brennan and Booth both looked out the window and saw their oldest surrounded by the rest of their brood.

They shared a look. Parker might be here but they saw something their children didn't see. _Something was wrong._

"Go to him," said Booth as he used his cane to stagger up. "I'll catch up."

Brennan nodded and walked, at a quick pace, out the front door.

* * *

The scream of his name from inside the house startled him and he almost smiled at the elated look on his baby sisters face as she launched herself off the table and out the door.

Despite his grief he did manage a smile as Christine slammed into him with all her might. Hugging the life out of him as she called his name over and over.

Hank wasn't far behind, his baby brother joining in the hug as he accepted their affections even as the pain in his heart almost brought him to his knees.

They kept asking him what he was doing here? Why hadn't he called?

How could he tell them?

Then _her_ voice, while spoken softly, penetrated and silenced their questions.

"Parker?" his mom asked softly. His siblings parting to reveal her beautiful welcoming, but still concerned, smile.

"Mom," He managed to gasp out as he stepped towards her only to be engulfed in her warm embrace. So familiar, yet so different from his own mum but still giving a sense of belonging, of home.

And for the second time that day Parker Booth broke down in the arms of his mother.

* * *

**_Emotional moments in the Booth household. Hold on to your butts! Reviews help lots! See ya! _**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Just a disclaimer up top. I am neither in the medical profession nor do I desire to be, in it. Any medical terms or procedures that I describe are based on copious amounts of reruns of House, Bones and Brother Google! So any inconsistencies are regretted. Sorry!_**

**_Also more coarse language at the end. Again Apologies._**

* * *

The Booth family piled into her FBI issue SUV with Christine at the helm and Hank next to her. In the back seat, her brother was sandwiched in between their parents with his head resting on her mom's shoulder as she lulled him to sleep. Tears still stained their Mom's blouse but she could care less about the state of her wardrobe when one of her own was hurting.

Christine studied her brothers now relaxed form. If she was honest, he looked like shit. There was no way to sugar coat it. He looked _terrible_. Which wasn't surprising given the circumstances.

She had been shocked when Parker had broken down in her mothers arms. She had never seen her brother like this. Parker had always been the sentinel, her silent protector until she asked a question, then he became a font of information. He was always her rock, she had never ever seen her big brother cry.

To see it now it seemed somehow _wrong_. Parker should never cry. It was one of the rules of her universe.

Flicking on the siren and turning on the lights she sped through light after light straight towards MedStar.

As she drove Parkers stuttering voice came back to her, interspersed between sobs as he squeezed the life out of their mother. He recounted that Rebecca had contracted cancer and she had gone for Chemotherapy without telling him about it. That she had been sick and nearly died. How he had rushed her to DC and how he had left her while she slept to come tell them.

It wasn't minutes after that her Dad had took charge and told her to get the car out. Rebecca was as part of their family as Parker was and they were going to be there for the both of them. All thought of dinner forgotten the Booth family gathered the absolute essentials and piled into her SUV.

And so here she was pulling into the Hospital parking lot. The squeel of tires screeched through the underground facility as she came to a stop, causing Parker to jerk awake and look around frantically calling for his mother.

Mom sushed him gently and reminding him of where he was. Slowly reason drifted into his eyes and the transformation from grieving son to responsible adult happened right before her eyes. It was painful to watch but she realised that it was necessary for him to be at least a little in control when being confronted by his mother's cancer ridden body lying on a hospital bed.

Feeling the need to do something she got out of the car slamming the door shut and saw Hank mimic her actions.

Sharing a look over the hood of the car they silently agreed to provide as much support at they could as their parents focused on their oldest child.

The sombre group piled into the elevators and rode up to the long term ward in silence.

With Parker as their guide the group moved towards Rebecca's room. A nurse intercepted them and after finding out who they were here to see, led them through to the observation room.

"While Ms Stinson has managed to fight off the recent onset of bacterial infection we cannot allow any more pathogens to enter her room as she might not be able to fight off another bout of fever when her body is so weak."

The family all nodded except for Parker who rejected this new development.

"But I need to stay with her," he retorted vehemently.

She nodded amicably. "Family members are allowed in the room, although not all at once. And you will have to go through proper decontamination procedure before entering her clean room."

Parker nodded. "I'll do anything, I don't want her to be alone in there."

She smiled sympathetically. "I'll show you the decon room."

Parker moved to follow but stopped at the door looking forlornly back at his family. Sharing a silent conversation with dad, mom moved next to Parker lacing his fingers with hers and leading him out of the room.

* * *

Brennan pulled her eldest gently to follow the nurse as she led them over to the sterilisation room fitted with sinks and various cleaning equipment.

As they entered she pulled the nurse up short and let go of Parkers hand.

"Nurse," she checked the name tag. "Cameron, I am familiar with the decontamination process. I was formerly a forensic anthropologist..."

"I know who you are Dr Brennan." Nurse Cameron interrupted with a smile. "You'd be hard pressed to find someone working in the field of science and medicine who doesn't know your name."

"Oh," said Brennan brought up short by that declaration. "Well, alright then. I am familiar with the decontamination process and can guide my son through it. What I _do_ require is Rebecca's medical report, her diagnosis and her medical history."

The Nurse immediately clammed up. "I cannot disclose a patients personal..."

"Its okay," said Parker. "I'm her medical proxy, she can have anything she wants."

Nurse Cameron relaxed, the smile back on her face. "I'll talk to the Doctor and let him know what you require."

Brennan nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

The nurse nodded back and moved to leave the room. "Once you're done press the call button on the wall and I'll send someone to escort you to Ms Stinsons room," she said as she left.

Parker looked at his mom in confusion. "Mom, I know how to prep for decontamination as well, Entomologist remember."

Brennan smiled and smoothed a stray curl away from hks forehead. "I never forgot, Parker. It was more for her benefit, if she hadn't recognised me then she would have known me by name, which she said, hence a greater chance of trusting me with the procedure. I doubt they would have let you prep alone even if you said that you were an Entomologist."

Parker had forgotten how blunt his mom could be at times. He had missed her.

Turning to start washing his hands, he caught himself in the mirror and grimaced. He needed a shave. Plus it was way too obvious that he hadn't slept for the last thirty six hours, but that really couldn't be helped.

Washing his face as his mom perused her phone he turned as she asked a question.

"Who's Rebecca's attending Oncologist?" she asked offhand as she swiped through her device.

Parker shrugged. "I didnt get his name," he said as he squeezed some shaving cream on his hand and lathered it up. "I don't think he was the attending though, just the one on call at the time. They mentioned that someone would come talk to me in the morning."

Brennan nodded. "Well I've got a few contacts in the field that could help out a bit, if I asked..." She mumbled to herself.

Parker finished lathering up his stubble as he glanced in the mirror at her. "I think Mum's condition is more in your field as well, Mom."

"What?" she asked finally looking up at her sons shaving cream covered face. "What does that mean?"

"It's bone cancer, mom."

"Bone cancer...?" she asked incredulously. "That seems unlikely given that we saw each other less than six months ago and she didn't show any symptoms. Parker has your mother been experiencing intense pain in her joints or even directly on the bone?"

Parker shook his head as he installed a new blade on the razor. "I talk to her every two weeks and the last time I was at her house, she was running around doing house work like normal."

Brennan pursed her lips in thought not wanting to voice her suspicions without looking at the reports and x-rays first.

Looking back up she watched Parker moved the razor to his face but stopped as he registered the shaking in his hands.

Moving quickly over she grabbed a stool and plucked the razor from his hand.

"Sit," she said firmly, which he did. Then she proceeded to surely and expertly shave his two day stubble. "I do this for your dad on weekends when he's feeling lazy."

Parker smiled as she talked about her husband fondly and thanked God once again for making sure that Bones never got away from them. He wasn't really sure what would have happened if her and his dad hadn't married but he was pretty sure it would not have been a good thing.

Soon enough she was done and he was taking a shower. Dressing in green scrubs he scrubbed up his hands thoroughly and pressed the button to call the nurse.

* * *

Booth stepped closer to the glass wall of the room that held the mother of his first born.

He felt more than saw Christine step up next to him and take his hand in hers. He smiled gratefully at her before turning back to Rebecca.

He wasn't surprised to feel a lone tear flow down his cheek as he gazed down at her sleeping form. He _had_ loved her once and she was the mother of his child.

Now they were close friends who lived far apart but still talked, mainly about Parker but still...

Seeing her like this. It seemed wrong. Rebecca and him didn't always get along, even before Parker. But whether she was fighting with him or angry at him of even disappointed with him, she had always been lively, energetic, forceful. It was one of the things that attracted him to her. She took life by the horns and made it hers. Now life seemed to be playing a sick game with her.

Leaning heavily on his cane he cast a final glance at her bed and moved to the seat by the wall to give his leg a rest. Christine wrapped a hand around his waist and helped him with only a half hearted protest from him.

She didn't leave his side even as he sat there silently and he thanked God for giving him such an empathic daughter who seemed to know what people she cared about always wanted or needed. Her only problem was that she seemed to put her own wants and needs on the back foot to help her loved ones. He knew sooner or later he would have to have a talk with his daughter. But today was not that day, he thought as Christine snuggled up to him giving and gaining comfort.

Ten minutes into their silent virgil there was a buzzing from his phone. Opening it up to see his wife's picture he accepted the call and whispered his greeting.

"Booth? Parker's in the shower, I wanted your help with something."

"Of course, what is it Bones?"

"I need you to get into contact with the Bureau and get me Rebecca's medical history. Parker has granted us access. I've asked the nurse here to get them for me but I doubt that they will have access to it all since she has been living in the UK for so long. I figured you would be quicker."

"You would be right in thinking that. I'll conact James from Records and see if he can speed things up." He paused. "What's going on Bones." He could sense that this wasn't a casual request.

She hesitated and he felts a sense of foreboding before...

"I don't want to say..."

"Until you get all the facts." he completed for her smiling ruefully, even if she couldn't see him. "What can you tell me, Bones? Is it bad?"

"I don't think so," she stated matter of factly. "In fact I think it actually might be good news." her voice lifted up at the last two words sparking a sliver of hope in his heart.

As much as he wanted to, he knew when to press his wife and when to let her be. "I'll get those records, Bones. You just take care of our son."

"I will, Booth. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah." He said as he hung up and quickly called Agent James. After a brief conversation where he gave Rebecca's name and Parker's passkey to access her records he hung up and looked around the room.

Hank had dosed off a while back and it seemed that Christine had also nodded off against his shoulder. Thinking back to more innocent days he moved gently to the side settling her head in lap and covering her with his jacket. He never understood why they made waiting rooms feel so cold.

Knowing that he was too wound up to sleep he pulled out his phone and started doing some research of his own, starting by doing a search for what Orthapeadic Ward meant.

* * *

Christine was roused from her nap only ten minutes later by the buzzing in her pant pocket.

Immediately alert she tried to sit up only to be impeded by an arm over her shoulders. Peeking through her reddish brown locks she registered where she was and blushed a deep red. Grown ups weren't supposed to be sleeping in their Daddy's laps. But she couldn't deny it was comfortable. She couldn't remember the last time she had fallen asleep in her father's embrace.

As the buzzing got insistent she reluctantly pulled away from her dad who smiled knowingly at his daughter and allowed her to sit up.

Slipping her phone out and putting it to her ear she tiredly let out; "Booth?"

Out the of the corner of her eye she caught her dad smirking at her terse, but familiar, greeting.

"Chrissy? It's Micheal. I've finished examining the bones."

Christine's eyes widened. She hadn't even once thought of the case since Parker had showed up on their doorstep. This was their _first case _she should have stayed focused but try as she might she couldn't compartmentalize her brother into the back of her mind.

"Chrissy? You still there?"

Blinking at the sound of Michael Vincents voice she hastened to answer. "Mikey..." she sighed over the line but couldn't really firm the words to explain what was going on.

Her dad who had been off-handedly observing her conversation sat up straighter at the mention of her partners name.

She looked at him and as if recognizing her inner turmoil he asked silently for her to hand the phone over.

Cursing herself at her apparent weakness she handed over the phone. Her dad pulled her back to into his side and she went willingly not denying the comfort he offered.

"Michael Vincent?" asked her dad to her partner. She could almost see Mikey straightening up at the sound of her dad's voice. There were very few people that Mikey respected more than her father.

"Yes, Michael... She's okay, don't worry... We are all at the MedStar... No. No one's injured Michael," he said firmly and she realized that Mikey was assuming the worst. "Parker arrived unannounced earlier this evening, his mother is very sick... No, not Bones... Rebecca..." Her dad paused for a second and she knew Mikey had asked a difficult question. "Its Cancer... Yeah, no you don't have to... Fine... Yeah, if you're sure... Maybe if you can pick is up some thai, tell Sid to charge it my tab, we didn't have time to have dinner before Parker came home... Yeah... Thanks Michael."

He cancelled the call and handed her the phone shaking his head.

At her questioning eyebrow he elaborated. "That boy of yours..." he said cryptically to which she only frowned. "He said he's coming over and that he'll pick up dinner for us."

Christine shrugged, not at all surprised. "Mikeys family Dad, of course he wants to help," Her dad looked at her for a moment before nodding accepting her reasoning. "And he's not _my _boy, Dad!" she reminded home irritably, to which her father laughed.

He smiled softly at her and gently replied. "I think you and him are the only two people that actually believe that sweetheart. The rest of us know better."

Giving her father the stinkeye she got up and flounced over her dosing brother and unceremoniously sat down on his strectched out legs. At his yelp she smiled.

"Chrissy! You'll break my legs!"

"Quit being a baby, Hank." she retorted immediately settling all too easily on his knees. "You need to go down to the garage."

"What? Why?" he asked as he half-heartedly tried to push her off him.

"Michael Vincent is coming over with our dinner soon and you need to show him the way up."

"Why can't you go? He's your boyfriend."

"He's got your food too," she replied not rising to his baiting, then getting serious for a minute she locked eyes with him then glanced at her dad who was now watching with a forlorn gaze as Parker entered the clean room. "Besides," she whispered. "I need to stay here."

Hank stopped playing around instantly and shared a loaded glance with his sister before looking in at his brother. Steel resolve settling into his eyes he pulled his legs from under her as she had known he could have done at anytime during the byplay, Hank stood up.

Planting a soft kiss on her head he walked towards the door passing by his dad. She saw him touch Dad's cane and share a look. Then dad focused back on Parker and Hank walked out of the room, his back a little more straighter. She smiled proudly at her brother as he opened the door and went down to meet Michael Vincent.

* * *

Dr Michael Vincent Staccato Hodgins-Montenegro was not a happy camper. First of all he had found nothinglre from his examination of the cleaned bones then what his preliminary findings had revealed.

Then Dr Bray came along and told him to expect a new intern tomorrow, his first case as a consultant with the FBI and he was expected to train a new intern?

Then he called Christine and everything went to hell.

This led him to here in his tiny car, back seat loaded with Thai take out, that he had most definitely not put on his uncles tab, driving through the evening traffic as he worried about his defacto family. Parker was more than just Christine's brother. He was also like a brother to Michael. He was the one who would take time out of his studies or hanging with his friends to indulge him and Christine in their mock investigations the Booth and Hodgins-Montenegro duo.

He was the one who helped hide half of their discretions from the parents and he also was the one caught them kissing when he came to visit them at college. When Christine chose to leave Parker had been someone he could call and talk to. He was the only one who didn't tell him that high school romances were bound to end sooner or later, didn't ask him to just move on. He did move on eventually but it was due to Parker being in on their secret affair that he had a confidante who he could turn to concerning all things Christine.

In fact he had just decided this afternoon as he was studying Annette Bannings bones that he would call Parker and tell him about his new partnership, maybe ask for advice. And now Parker was suddenly in DC. And his mother was had cancer? What? How?

Question after question raced through his mind as he stepped on the gas when the road ahead cleared for him. He hoped he would get some answers soon, Micheal thought to himself as he pulled into the hospital parking garage.

* * *

Rev. Albright studied the child for a minute. He was their most promising. He was doing the work that needed to be done. It was fortunate that his Master had entrusted them with his care from birth so that that could mold him into the perfect crusader for their cause.

He found the child rocking back and forth on the floor next to his bed. Freshly showered, towel still around his waist as he clutched that book that his master left for him.

Looking up at the girl lying on the bed he sneered. She was beautiful, with full breast and curvy hips, blood red lips gone slightly blue in death. Her deep red hair lay like a pool of blood on his pillow. And his seed spilled on the sheets from within her. It was all he could do not to hurl at the sight. The whore deserved what she got, but the child was getting careless. Something had to be done.

"Get Up!" he ordered the child.

"Father?"

"I said get up," he repeated his voice cold and unmoved, brooking no doubt as to what would happen if he had to repeat himself one more time.

The child got up all trace of his previous grief masked.

"Bring her, get dressed, wrap her in your sheets, take the pillows as well," he ordered as he turned his back on the child. "Follow."

"Yes, Father." His obedience reassured him that all was not lost.

* * *

He drove them to the back yard of the building and used his key to get inside.

"The Undertaker is gone for the week. We are fortunate that your lapse in judgment occurred during his absence," he didn't look back to see what his words did to the child, he just pushed through, door after door until he finally descended a steep set of stairs and came into the basement.

The crematory stood in the corner. He turned to the child carrying the whore. And scowled.

"You nearly destroyed our life's work with you disgusting perversion!" The child looked down, not meeting his eyes. "Rest assured there will be... penance." He was satisfied to see the child swallow at the threat. "Right now? We must fix your mistake."

He walked over to the crematory and opened the door.

"Put her in," he ordered coldly, as he went to turn on the gas valve. This funeral home being so far out of the city, was not connected the gas main. A large gas tank stood to the side of the crematory which allowed it to function as it should.

Moving back to the front he watched as the child shoved the whore, bundled in his sheets into the crematory. As he stood back up and clutched at his precious book the Father snatched it out of his hand and tossed it in after the body.

The child went to rush after the infernal thing but the Father was quicker. He slammed the door shut and pressed the button to light it all on fire.

The scream that the child let out in anguish was music to his ears. The child fell to his knees scrabbling at the locked door of the crematory paying no mind to the fact that it was quickly turning red hot. Slapping him hard the Father slammed him to the floor and kicked him twice in the stomach.

And even though the child was much bigger and stronger than the Father, he never tried to stop the Father's actions.

"Get Up!" he yelled, as the fire burned behind him the small window revealing leaping orange flames. "You have disgraced our church! Disrespected our teachings! Betrayed your master, who you claim to so loyally follow!_ This?" _he pointed back at the burning body and book. "This is but the beginning of your penance!"

"No, Father. Please!" The child pleaded scrabbling at his cassock and kissing the hem. Another kick lashed out and he was pleased to see a tooth fly. Let's see which whore goes home with him after he's done with the child.

"I said, Get Up!"

Once more the child obeyed as he should. Standing straight even as his bruised ribs hurt him and his mouth bled.

"Follow." He uttered once more and led the child out of the building.

...

...

If only the Father had waited a minute longer he would have observed the fire in the furnace wane and die as the last of the gas escaped the cylinder and the partially burned body of the girl and something else, something _very **very **_important slowly cooled back down.

* * *

**_Ooh! Developments! Thanks for reading, see you on the next one! Bye! _**


	8. Chapter 8

Michael pulled into the parking garage and immediately spotted his tour guide. Leaning next to Christine's black SUV stood Hank Booth, he seemed to be texting something but put the phone away as soon as he saw Michael's car.

The two met somberly. "How's Parker holding up?" he asked Hank as they unloaded the cartons of Thai food.

Hank sighed as he shouldered the extra large thermos full of coffee and picked up the last of the cartons.

"As well as he can I guess."

Michael and Hank exchanged loaded glances and moved to the elevator, the need to speak wasn't there so they rode the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

Brennan entered the observation room, closing the door behind her and moving to sit next to her husband. Seeing Christine sitting alone on the far bench, studying Parker clinically she raised a questioning eyebrow at Booth.

"Hank's gone down to fetch Michael Vincent," he said by way of explanation.

"Michael Vincent?"

"Yeah," he replied glancing at his daughter meaningfully. "He called Christine about the case but she was too distracted to answer. I told him what was happening and he offered to bring us all dinner."

Brennan ruminated on this for a moment before smiling widely. "He is a very considerate boy, isn't he?"

Booth grinned but lowered his voice as he answered with. "I don't think Michael would appreciate being referred to as a _boy_, Bones."

She scrunched up her nose in confusion. "Isn't that what he is? Unless of course he is transitioning, which is absolutely fine but it does put paid to our idea of him and Christine marrying because I'm pretty sure that Christine is not gay."

Booth just smiled fondly and pulled his wife down to sit next to him, waiting.

"Michael is _not_ transitioning?" she asked tentatively.

"Not as far as I am aware of, no."

"You are referring to the fact that a grown man dislikes being referred to as a boy because it insults his perceived masculinity."

Booth smiled. "Mhmhm," he hummed as his wife came to the correct conclusion herself.

"Well I would never dream of making Michael Vincent feel insecure."

"Good."

Brennan snuggled into Booths side, pretty much mirroring what her daughter had done minutes ago.

"We have gotten extremely off topic," she commented.

Booth shrugged. Over the years his wife had become more and more socially ept but her quirks still got through from time to time. He had discovered a while ago that if he just indicated that she made an error instead of calling her out on it, she was more likely to engage that big brain of hers and try to correct herself. He still hoped that she never completely became socially competent. Her quirks were part of what he fell in love with, he would hate to lose that.

In answer to her statement he went on to say; "You said Michael is very considerate. I agree."

Brennan beamed at him before her eyes lost some of that light. Catching her gaze he looked through the window and watched as the green clad form of his eldest shook and trembled. He was sitting next to his mother holding her hand as his shoulders shook and tears started streaming down his face.

Before Booth could stop her Brennan leaped up and ran up to the window staring in distraught at her son. Turning to her husband she stated in a tone that brook no argument.

"I'm scrubbing up, I should have gone there with him," she said and was halfway through the room before;

"Wait, Mom," interupted her daughter coming to stand next to her. "I'll go."

Brennan shook her head, "Honey..."

"I'll go, Mom," she insisted as she laid a hand on her arm. Tears streamed down her mother's cheeks as she tried to understand her daughter's motivations. "All of us," she indicated herself and her father. "Have work tomorrow. You are the only one who can be there for him at all times."

Brennan nodded and there was no doubt that she would freely take on that responsibility. "But mom," she said kindly. "You can't run yourself ragged doing this, you'll be no help to Parker exhausted."

Brennan turned this suggestion over in her head and concluded that Christine was correct. She was no longer that young woman who could spend days with little or no sleep at all and still be functional. And she _was_ the only one who could be there for Parker full time, having no other pressing obligations. It didn't mean she had to like it.

Huffing she wiped her tears and turned to her husband to see what he thought of this idea, only to see his proud smile directed at his daughter and rolled her eyes. Feeling her daughters hand on her arm she turned back to Christine.

"Let us help you where we can, Mom." Brennan smiled at her daughter and finally acceded.

"Tell him that we love him, very much." she insisted as Christine left the room.

"He knows, but I'll tell him all the same." she answered back and closed the door.

Settling back into her husband's embrace, Brennan smiled up at him. He smiled back.

"Looks like Michael isn't the only one who's considerate, huh?" asked Booth with an innocent smile. Brennan shook her head smiling as she and her husband took watch over their eldest while they waited for their daughter to show up.

Two minutes into their virgil though, the phone in her hand started ringing. Surprised the couple looked down at the device.

"Thats not your phone," Booth commented.

Brennan nodded. "No," she agreed. "It's Parker's he can't take any personal effects into that room, I agreed to hang onto to this for him," she replied turning the phone over to reveal the picture of a very pretty young lady with rich dark skin, blue eyes and soft wavy dark locks. Sharing a surprised look, the parents stared at the picture for a minute too long and the screen went blank, the room growing silent once more.

Two seconds later it started ringing again, the name _Andi_ flashing over her picture giving away the beautiful woman's name. Booth and Brennan grinned at each other in absolute understanding.

"Put her on video," Booth said and Brennan did just that and the young woman, a little less composed and happy than the picture, blinked into existence. Brennan swiped up to get the video into a holoscreen so that they could see the girl more clearly.

_Andi, _went to talk then paused, panic in her eyes as she saw who had answered the phone.

"D-Dr Brennan, Agent Booth."

The couple blinked and shared an amused look before turning back to Andi. "Yes," said Booth.

"I'm sorry," she apologized blushing, even through her dark complexion. "I was calling to see how Parker was doing."

In better circumstances the aging couple would have teased the woman unbearably for her and Parker hiding her existence from them but it was obvious that this Andi, cared a great deal for their son, so they disposed with their teasing and answered her question seriously.

"Parker is with his mother," said Brennan, taking an immediate liking to this young woman. "She is being kept in a clean room to avoid pathogens and phones aren't allowed inside." Brennan was apologetic, understanding that Andi probably wanted to speak to Parker directly.

The disappointment on Andi's face was unmistakable but she quickly hid it as she asked. "Is he okay? I wish I could come with him but, I was needed at work and... and..." it was obvious that Andi thought that the work excuse was feeble and that she should still be with Parker to provide support.

Brennan, being someone who had used the work excuse so many times in her life, understood her plight. Booth was the one who decided to answer her question.

"Parker is doing okay," he replied glancing at the window to see now, two of their children sitting next to Rebecca. "Not good, as you can imagine, but he _is_ okay. Christine, our daught..."

"I know who Christine is Agent Booth."

At their surprised expression she elaborated. "Parker talks about you alot," another blush adorned her cheeks as she smiled fondly. "I feel like I already know you all even though I've never met you."

Another shared glance between the couple, then Brennan addressed the young woman.

"Well, if that's the case then call us Temperance and Seeley," she offered.

Booth nodded. "Or Mom and Dad?" he asked cheekily and grinned at the blush that darkened yet again on Andi's features. When Brennan looked at him questioningly he nodded at the video feed. "Look at her left hand Bones."

Brennan did and her eyes widened at what she saw there.

"I'm sorry!" Andi said clearly distraught. "Parker wanted to tell you himself and I wasn't aware that I would be talking to you. Parker just asked me just last week. I of course said yes. That's what Parker was meeting Rebecca for yesterday, to share the good news. Only..."

Her downcast eyes made the parents scowl, they already liked this girl, especially since Parker clearly thought the world of her. Seeing her sad made them sad.

"Could you tell us more about yourself," Brennan ventured tentatively. Booth clutched her hand supportively willing to let her lead. "Parker kept you to himself but I would like to know a little bit more about my future daughter in law."

That title seemed to stun the girl before a small smile graced her face.

"My name is Andrea Michaels. Parker calls me Andi. I'm a biomedical engineer. Parker and I met two years ago when I came to his lab to install some new equipment. But we didn't get together until last year when we were both free to date each other."

Booth and Brennad shared an impressed smile.

"Biomedical engineer?" asked Brennan eagerly. "Can you tell me more about that?"

Andi hesitated but clearly Brennan wanted to know so she nodded. "The lab I am in charge of at the moment focuses on building medical equipment and incorporating 3D tissue printing and bionics, although our bionics department is lacking any real funding."

Getting into her stride as she talked about her job Andi grew animated. "I primarily focus on tissue regeneration technology and bionic implants achievable through neurological pathway mapping."

"Oh My God! You're Dr Michaels from the London Institute of Medical Sciences?!"

Andi grew surprised at the recognition but nodded nonetheless as Booth watched silently from the sidelines; understanding, thanks to Brennan, only about forty percent of what was being said.

"Yes, Dr Bre... I mean Temperance."

"I have been meaning to contact you for so long," Brennan admitted. "I always thought you were a man."

Booth interrupted them. "Wait, wait," he said quickly. "How, exactly, do you know her?"

"Booth, her paper on bionics and tissue regeneration changed the fundamental understanding of medical science when she helped incorporate current technological advancements with medical technology.. Her equipment has made the need for donor tissue and bone grafting absolutely unnecessary.

"Her skin grafting matchine has given hundreds of burn victims their lives back. Also her work in bionics is unlike any other in her field. Remember Amy Cullen?" she asked rhetorically. "What happened to her will never happen to someone else, with her ability to print the exact density and length of artificial bone needed to be grafted and with bionics she can actually join the artificial and real bones together so that there might as well have never been a break there at all."

Brennan was grinning widely and gushing praise to Booth about Andi. "Our daughter in law is a pioneer, Booth. Someone's whose name will be remembered for a long time as an innovator in Medical Science."

Andi looked like she wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment which Booth noticed and decided to rescue the poor girl. "That's great Bones," he said "Listen, you know its very late over there? If she's as important as you say, then I'm sure she needs her sleep."

Brennan nodded and looked apologetically at Andi. "It's a great pleasure to welcome you to our family Andi. Thank you for taking care of Parker when we couldn't be there for him."

Andi smiled gratefully her eyes glassy with unshed tears at the unexpected instant acceptance from the two people who, aside from Rebecca, were the most important people in her fiancé's life. "Please tell Parker I'll call him tomorrow and I'll get leave soon so I can come over across the pond and be with him."

Brennan smiled back and cut the connection feeling quite cheered after talking to Andi.

Before she could say anything about her to Booth though the door flew open and in walked Michael Vincent and Hank with their dinner.

* * *

Christine sat down beside Michael as she tucked in to her dinner. Parker couldn't eat with them since he wanted to stay with Rebecca. He would have to eat specially prepared hospital food as long as he chose to stay in the Clean Room.

"So, no progress on the case, huh?" she asked her partner as she dug in and started on her carton of Pad Thai.

Michael shook his head as he finished chewing his food and swallowed . "No. You have any luck with the profiler?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. She said that the killer exhibits sociopathic behavior, he's probably a person working a low income job, maybe even unemployed and is relatively young. He's charismatic enough to charm women to garner their attention but he is also methodical and studious.

"Judging from the way he buries his victims he feels some shame about his actions but then again all of this is pointless if this person had access to the Epps case files and is just a copycat killer."

"And exactly how many people have access to those case files?" he asked quietly as the partners observed Hank, Brennan and Booth conversing over a large carton of egg rolls.

Christine sighed as she bit into her own roll, after swallowing she met Michael's eyes. "It's a thirty year old closed case Mikey. Criminal Psychology classes all over the country use this case, and multiple other cases from the Booth and Brennan partnership, in their studies."

"If that's the case then our suspect pool just expanded substantially."

"So anyone could be the killer?" she asked increduosly.

Michael shook his head. "No," he said after taking a sip of water. "The force of the parietal fractures indicate excessive force delivered by a blunt object with a curved surface area. Probably cylindrical. The force required to kill the victim excludes most of the female population."

At her affronted he look he amended. "Purely scientifically Chrissy, while I'm sure you are more than capable of killing someone, even you would not be able to provide enough force to kill an adult female with one blow from a blunt weapon."

Slightly mollified she continued her questions. "Speaking of the murder weapon...?" she waited expectantly.

"That is still ongoing. We have determined, as I said that the blow was delivered by a large cylindrical object that was malleable enough to not fully shatter the parietal bone but the force was still enough to kill the victim."

She chewed slowly as she mulled over the information glancing occasionally to the observation window watching as Parker sat with his mother ignoring the food that the nurse had brought him.

"Didn't Epps kill his victims with a tire iron?" she asked after swallowing.

Michael nodded. "Yes, he did. As far as we have determined that seems to be the only deviation, in that this copycat changed the murder weapon. Everything else? Is textbook Howard Epps."

Soon after that discussion case work was tabled and her mom stood up to address the room.

"As much as I know you want to stay here and support you brother, your father and I have agreed that it would be impractical. This place is not comfortable and there are limited amenities for our daily ablutions. Since I am the only one not working full time, I have decided to take the majority of the responsibility in overseeing Parker and Rebecca's wellbeing."

At that the family made to protest only to be silenced by her 'stern lecturing interns face' all of them were very familiar with that face, rare as its appearance was so they shut up even as their dad grinned at them from behind her.

"This is the most practical solution. I will however, require breaks. If anyone is available in the mornings and at noon, I would appreciate the help."

"Of course, mom. One of us will make time to help you out," she looked across at the boys as if daring them to contradict her, fully including Michael in that threat.

Mom smiled at her. "Thank you," she said grateful. "Dinner, we will have here and it will have to be take out for the foreseeable future as I will not be home much to cook until we get through this."

"Sure, Bones. That's fine." Her dad said getting up and moving to her side to take her hand in his. Smiling gently at her husband she looked back at her family.

"That is all," she said finally, then looked to her daughter. "Christine, your father forgets to take his pain pills in the morning, since I am here...?"

She quickly moved to reassure her mother. "I'll make sure he takes them mom," she said stepping up to hug her. "You just take care of Parker." she pulled back to see unshed tears in her mother's eyes and realized that it had been more than a year since she had actually hugged her mom. Pushing that thought to the back of her mind she hugged her mother again then moved to her father's side only for him to tap her lightly on the leg with his cane.

"I can walk fine on my own," he said jesting but there was a warning in his voice. She had only seen him accept help from her mother when it came to his limp and only sometimes, as he did earlier, from her. Her father was a proud man. She didn't take it personally.

"I know dad," she assured him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, another gesture she had refrained from for at least a couple of years. What was wrong with her?

Her dad was clearly shocked at her actions which affected her more than she would like to admit. Quickly moving over to Hank who had not missed anything she gathered up their bags and the trash from their dinner and moved to the door.

"Tell Parker I'll see him tomorrow," she said as she moved to the door. "Bye Mom."

"Goodbye Christine," her mom replied making her look back to see tears still in her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too." she whispered back locking eyes with her mother and connecting to her for the first time in years. As Hank moved to say his goodbyes Christine took her chance to escape the room and hurried to the elevator. She was just successful in her getaway when the last person she wanted to see her in her current emotional state stopped the doors closing and stepped in.

Michael moved past her and leaned against the back wall as she punched in the parking garage floor button and the doors closed. Her shoulders slumped as the events of the evening caught up to her.

She was just trying to hold back her tears when a hand moved to her shoulder, light gentle, calm. She turned to him and met his soft brown eyes with her sharp, slightly glassy blue gray ones, a tear overflowed and spilled down at his understanding expression and a second later she was in his arms sobbing her eyes out.

* * *

They didn't mention her breakdown as they exited the elevator. Christine wasted no time in putting the bags and trash in the car before turning back to Michael. He was waiting for something. It took a moment for her to realize what that was and she hated herself for it a little. He had offered a little bit of himself to her in that elevator and he was fully expecting her to brush off his help and not speak of the incident ever again.

Looking closely with her profiler eyes she also realized that he was actually relying on her to do it. To send him off, to draw the line. Well she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Throwing caution to the wind she hooked her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him. It was a thank you hug for sure but it was also a lot more than that. She was only slightly disappointed that he didn't hug her back.

"Thank you," she said softly in his ear and smiled as she felt him shiver. Pulling away she was about to lean in again but the elevator dinged revealing the rest of her family minus her mom.

Seperating herself from Michael she grinned at him and his gobsmacked expression. Her mood improved a lot as she saw the effect she had on him.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning on the way to the Bureau, we're interviewing the boyfriend at ten."

Smirking at his silent, slow nod of confirmation she turned around, fully aware of where his eyes were and went to open the door for her dad. Enduring the elder Booth's scowl she closed his door and trotted over to the other side.

Throwing a "See you Mikey." Over to the still frozen Michael Vincent she drove her family to her childhood home to finally get some sleep.

* * *

Michael stood staring after the FBI issue SUV for a full five minutes before he managed to move. What the hell was that? That was not the Christine he knew. The Christine he had known would never have sobbed on him like that but even if he somehow managed to get her to trust him enough to cry in fron of him, she would never had called attention to it. She would have blocked it out and insisted that they never would talk about it.

He had been depending on Christine being the one keeping herself at a distance, his resolve to not let her in was depending on the fact that talking about anything emotional? Anything about feelings or love or things that hurt her heart, that would make her run. And since she couldn't run from their cases he was sure she would make sure that there was a professional distance between them.

He was not strong enough to resist Christine Booth when she herself was not willing to temper her affections. He was so screwed.

* * *

At the Booth household, one o'clock in the night, Hank Booth descended downstairs stealthily so as to not wake his sister and dad. He had woken up halfway through the night and realized that he had slept with his mouth open. Aside from the pool of drool on his pillows he now felt like he had cotton wool in his mouth.

Needing a drink of water Hank found himself creeping around in the dark. Coming upon the living room he was about to turn towards the kitchen only to turn back and find a glum looking sister in Christine Booth sitting slumped in one corner of the couch.

She was sitting deathly still but her sharp eyes were trained directly on him. He wouldn't be surprised if her gaze had followed him all the way from the second floor landing.

"Chrissy? What are you doing here?"

"Just thinking," she said her voice a whisper. She took her eyes off him staring off into space.

Hank studied his sister, he sometimes forgot, what with her penchant for wearing dark power suits, just how small she really was. She had inherited their mother's looks but not her height. Here burrowing into the soft contours of their family sofa, wearing her mother's t-shirt and shorts she looked particularly small and the glum look on her face wasn't at all agreeable with him.

"Hold that thought," he muttered sure that she hadn't heard him.

Quickly fetching his glass of water he walked over to the sofa and sat next to his sister leaving a man sized space between them so she didn't feel crowded. Sipping his water he glanced at Christine only to see her staring back at him.

Without preamble she spoke, still in their soft voice. "I hugged Mom today," she said sadly.

He stared at her. "That's a good thing, isn't it?" he asked hesitantly.

"She almost cried," Christine replied her own eyes filling with tears.

"Why?" he asked perplexed.

She ignored his question. "I kissed dad on the cheek and he was shocked." Her eyes flooded and overflowed as her tears fell and he was helpless to anything.

Pinning red eyes on him she asked. "Why does it surprise my parents when I show them any affection? When did I become a stranger in my own house?"

"Chrissy! You know that's not true! Mom and Dad love you! And so do I, you know that!" his voice was toned down but he really wanted to yell them at his sister for ever doubting their love for her.

She laid a hand on his to settle him. "I do know that, Hank," she reassured him tempering his red hot anger. "I do. I just think that they were surprised to see proof that I love them back."

He had nothing to say to that.

"And I do," she insisted as more tears spilled. "I do love you all, more than anything. You're my family."

He scooted forwards to lay a hand on her arm trying to comfort her. "We know, Chrissy. We know you love us."

She shook her head not believing his words.

"What changed?" she asked him directly. "What happened that made them doubt me?"

"They didn't doubt you, Chrissy!"

"What changed, Hank!" she demanded her voice rising.

Not wanting their dad to wake up and add a whole lot more drama to this conversation he decided to just come out and say it.

"Well you... you left."

He knew his words devastated his sister but she had wanted to hear them.

"Mom and Dad knew that they had no say in your career choice, and they were fine with that but you were happy. They saw that. I was fourteen and even I saw that. Then suddenly you packed your bags pulled your name out of UDC and went of to the Academy?

"They tried to understand but when you didn't come back for the holidays, didn't call and didn't answer when we did. Well they didn't cope with it well."

He chose to turned and face the stairs as he recounted all that had happened after her decision to join the FBI.

"Mom, she doesn't cope with sudden change well. When you left she closed down. Buried herself in her work, dad struggled tried to bring her back out but I heard dad talking to Aunt Angela and saying that he thought Mom blamed Dad, that he convinced you to join the FBI because he wanted you to follow in his footsteps.

Hank glanced at his sister and hated himself at the horrifyingly guilty look that crossed her face. He quickly looked back to the stairs knowing he wouldn't be able to continue if he kept looking at her.

"It put a strain in their relationship, there was some talk of taking some time. Dad started sleeping in the guest bedroom..."

Hank heard a gasp from Chrissy but still continued determined to finish this. He didn't blame her but he went through it all, right in this very house, he hadn't ever talked about it to anyone, he needed to say this just as much as she needed to hear it.

"Michael was a huge help. He stayed over so many times. He got through to mom when dad couldn't. He talked to her and made her see that Dad wasn't at fault for your decisions.

"Two Christmas' in to you joining the Academy Michael convinced his mom to go and talk to you."

Another gasp. "I remember that!" she said through her tears. "I was studying for an exam when Auntie Ange came and threw my book three stories down out the window. She told me that my family needed to see me this Christmas. Dragged me down here. I was irritated."

Hank huffed a laugh through his own tears. "You were prickly, but it was the first time in two years that I saw mom smile. She went all out cooking and cleaning and hugging everyone.

"When Dad came back from dropping you off back at the Academy mom had stripped the guest bedroom of its sheets and mattress locked the door and flushed the key down the toilet.

"Two days later they started couples therapy. Since then they've been a lot better. Even better than before, they told me."

"Therapy?" she asked shocked.

"They've done it before," he reminded her.

"That was when they were partners. Mom and Dad shouldn't need therapy!"

"They did," he said. "It was the only way to save their marriage," at her crestfallen expression he hastened to add. "They don't blame you Chrissy."

"They should," she said forcefully meeting his eyes. "I broke my family."

* * *

**_And on that somber note, I'll end this chappy. Thanks for reading and leave a review if yoh can! _**


	9. Chapter 9

**_We'll get more into the case in the next chapter. This one is more of a gaining closure kind of a chapter. Read on to find out!_**

* * *

Christine sat fully dressed for the day in her childhood bed staring down at her FBI Badge. She had not been able to get to sleep til early in the morning and two hours later her alarm woke her up.

And she didn't even have access to her make up to cover the dark circles around her eyes.

Running her fingers over the gold shield she wondered at her decisions. At the time, she had been only thinking about herself and how she could accomplish her goals. She had not been aware of how many people she was hurting when she left for Quantico.

Her mother's journal flashed before her eyes but she knew that her decisions were her own and no amount of self pity or guilt was going to make things better. She had failed her family. It was the worst feeling in the world to realize that she had almost been responsible for the destruction of the most stable and loving relationship she had ever been a part of.

The idea of her parents not talking to each other? Not sleeping in the same bed, was almost alien. It just did not fit in with her world view. But it had happened, and she was responsible.

Getting up she walked across the hall, over to the guest bedroom. There was two strips of yellow crime scene tape stuck to the door crossing each other to form an 'X'. It had been there when she came back for the Easter weekend the year after Auntie Ange had dragged her back for Christmas. She had always thought that it was Hank goofing off but looking at it now it was clear that her mom had put it there, symbolizing that a crime had been committed here. And all evidence pointed to one self centered Christine Booth as the suspect.

Two doors down her parents bedroom opened and her dad walked out using the wall for support till he got to the basket next to the guest bedroom door that held his cane.

Settling next to her, he looked at her for a moment then at the crime scene tape covered door. His jaw clenched as understanding dawned on him.

"You know," he began placatingly. "Your mom and I, we've had our ups and downs all the time. This was no different."

Christine met his eyes feeling very small all of a sudden. "You slept in different beds! Hank thought you were going to divorce!"

He shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "Whatever problems we may have had, I would not have allowed it to push us to divorce."

Christine wasn't convinced, the grief in Hanks voice was still ringing in her ears. "But it was something like that, right dad? You were talking about something right?" she pressed.

Her dad broke eye contact, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "We... we were maybe thinking..." he looked back at her, a deep pain in his eyes that she had never seen before. "We were thinking about maybe... maybe taking some time... some time... apart."

She was expecting it but it still felt like a knife plunged through her chest.

"What?" she said softly, still in shock. "Seperated? My God!" Once more tears fell and she saw her dad back pedal at the sight.

"Hey, Chrissy. We worked it out, okay. We... We talked... We fought and we... We cried it all out. But it worked out, okay?" he said as he shot a fake grin at her.

She folded her arms and scowled at him. "Stop doing that, dad!"

He blinked. "Doing what?" he asked now tense again.

"Babying me! I am an adult now. I know that it's my fault that this happened! I know that you had to have been angry at me," she needled. "I hurt you dad, you and mom. In the worst way."

Fire leapt in his eyes as he leaned back on the wall relieving pressure from his leg.

"Then what exactly do you want me to say, Christine, huh?" he asked the, uptil now, repressed anger surfacing, probably for the first time. "Do you want me to tell you that I knew that I wasn't going to be able to survive being separated from Bones and yet I was going to do it because maybe if she didn't see my face every morning then maybe, just maybe she might not cry herself to sleep at night?

"Do you want me to tell you that every single night for a year! I slept down the hall from the woman that I love, with everything that I am, and she wouldn't even look at me? Do you want me to tell you that I went to bed every night, thinking that the next morning will be the day that she would ask me to move out?

"You know, Christine, me and Bones? We've been through a lot. We fought for each other, we bled for each other. She got kidnapped. She got buried alive. I got shot. She thought I was dead. I almost drowned. We survived my brain tumor. We were apart for almost a year. She had an intern die in her arms. She went on the run with you for three months! I was put on jail for six! We lost one of our closest friends in trying to clear my name. The entire lab blew up!

"But I have never been more scared of losing Bones than in that first year that you up and went to Quantico."

Christine was near hysterics as her dad finally unloaded all his pent up anger at its rightful recipient. So much pain was in his eyes. How could she have caused her own father so much pain?

He queitened down and took a deep breath and locked pained eyes with her again. "Christine. You know I love you. I will always love you, no matter what you do. But Bones? Bones is my life. Even if I didn't have anything but her in my life? I would still be the happiest man in the world. If I were to lose her? Then I would survive, for you and Hank I would live on... but I would no longer be me. I wouldbe a shell of the man I am today."

He looked at her for a moment, trying to catch his breath. She recognized that look. She saw it in her mirror way too often. He was trying to control himself. Breathing exercises.

"So the next time, you get the idea of upping and leaving us? I suggest you think a little bit about how many people will be affected by your decision."

He turned to stomp away from her, she deserved his contempt she knew but she couldn't let him go without resolving this. He moved passed her as quickly as his leg would permit.

"Dad," he didn't stop, she tried to stem the emotions welling up as he reached the landing. "Dad, please!" she tried desperately.

"..."

He stopped and waited. She moved quickly closing the distance. He turned to her and all anger drained from his face at her forlorn expression. He sighed and pulled her into himself and for the second time in twenty four hours Christine Booth was sobbing in the arms of one of the most imprtnat men in her life. This time probably the most important man.

"God, your mom is going to kill me."

She shook her head, no. "I'll talk to her, tell her I know," pulling back she looked into his eyes. "And that I will fix this," at his questioning look she explained. "I broke our family dad, and I'm going to fix it."

* * *

**_Five Years Ago. Booth Family, Post New Year's._**

Booth woke up after the best nights sleep he had had in the last year or so. He opened his eyes and feasted on the very rare sight of his wife sleeping peacefully in his arms.

He enjoyed the moment as much as he could knowing that once Christine left today he was going to have to go back to sleeping alone. It was not something he was looking forward to. A tear fell from his eye, into her hair and he knew it was time to go.

Savouring the moment as long as he could. Breathing in the smell of his wife's hair, her light perfume. The feel of her soft body in his arms one last time. He slowly extricated himself from her and using the walls for support limped out to go and change. He could have stayed longer but he didn't want to see her reaction to waking up in his arms. He was sure it wouldn't be the same as his.

* * *

Brennan was hyperaware of the fact that her husband had woken up. It had always been the case even if they hadn't slept in the same bed in a years time. She had always woken up when he did, even it if was for a few moments. She had missed this. She hated that after all they had been through, they were basically strangers in their own house.

She wished they could shut the world out. Stay here forever. With him. Always.

She waited for him to go as soon as he woke. She wouldn't blame him. She knew how much she hurt him whenever they locked eyes. This past week was magical. They couldn't let Christine know that something was going on, so they had started sleeping in the same bed, but they made sure to leave space between them.

That space became a chasm this past week at they smiled for their family but cried for themselves inside.

But even with the space between them, it felt amazing to be sleeping in the same room as him. How many more times would she be able to hurt him. How many more times before he had enough?

It seemed that their bodies, whether they chose to or not, realized that this was their last day sleeping together. So they had gravitated and she was now wrapped up in his arms.

He didn't move immediately. Five minutes went by and she knew he wasn't asleep. She waited, hoping that he wouldn't go. But then she felt it. A hot tear drop landing on her scalp.

He was moving quickly after that. Slowly extracting himself from her and standing up. She felt him look down at her for a long moment before he turned and slowly but quietly, despite his leg, moved out of the room to get dressed in the guest room.

_Guest Room._

_Guest_.

She had relagated her husband to the role of guest! Not just in her life but in their house as well.

Brennan sat up and looked around. The room boasted the existence of a loving family, a caring couple and their three children. But it sported a lie. The dresser only held her personal effects. The closet only held her clothes. They had breakfast separately. Booth normally waking up quickly enough so that they wouldn't have to interact before he went to work.

He would intentionally stay working til nine or ten in the evening and while she would set aside a plate for him. They wouldn't ever talk. Weekends were spent out of the house. Booth working at the office. Brennan visiting with Angela and her new apprentice.

They were like two single people living in the same house and she knew that something would have to change. Normally she would count on Booth to push, to try and make things right. But he seemed to be pulling away from her the longer they remained strangers.

She thought back to happier times and realized that this time it would be up to her to push. To make things right. Angela had brought Christine back to them but she had been shocked to see her own twenty year old self staring back at her when she greeted her daughter. She was still able to put aside that realization and focus on making this Christmas memorable for her.

Over the course of the week she had sneaked glances at her husband. He put on his game face when people were around, smiling, laughing being his old boisterous self. But when people left the slump in his shoulders was pretty evident. He kept perusing the same newspaper page over and over.

She smiled to herself, he still ordered physical newspapers. Which were now more of a luxury item then a necessity.

Getting up and mechanically making the bed Brennan knew that something had to change. Her daughter was going down a path that she couldn't help her with. She had blamed her husband long enough for Christine's mistakes.

No longer.

* * *

Breakfast had been interesting. Hank and Booth dominated the conversation with sports talk with Christine on her tablet, focusing on her studies and Brennan lost in thought.

Soon after they had cleared the table and Booth and Christine left for Quantico. Brennan hugged her daughter goodbye and let a few tears fall, warning her to not let another year pass before visiting again.

Booth didn't look at her as he went to get into their car but she wasn't going to let that happen.

"Booth!" she said and he looked up in surprise, she could feel Hank's surprise next to her as well. "Drive safe." she finished looking at him intently. She could tell he was confused but he nodded nonetheless and got into the driver seat.

"Mom?" Hank asked quietly and she pulled her youngest into her arms, he went willingly as she queezed him tightly. "I'm going to fix this, Hank." she said over his shoulder. Pulling back she met her son's eyes. "I'm going to need your help."

* * *

Brennan opened the door to the guest room. She hadn't been here since Booth started sleeping here. It was sparse, Booth didn't personalize the room. No pictures on the wall, no effects on the dresser. Two large suitcases stood against the far wall.

Her husband was living out of suitcases in his own house.

_She was going to fix this_.

There was one picture in the room though. On the bedside cabinet, the frame facing away from her, stood a photo. Moving around the bed, her breath caught in her chest as she saw her own smiling face peeking out from within the photo frame.

Tears filled her eyes as she imagined her Booth sleeping in this generic bed. Looking at her picture.

_She was going to fix this._

The newspaper she had seen him perusing throughout the week lay folded on his bed. Curious she picked it up and looked at it only to freeze.

It was folded to the Apartments To Let section, two pictures were circled in red. Both within a ten minute drive to the Hoover.

Her tears finally fell as she sat down on the bed and wept for how far she had let this thing go.

* * *

Hank found her there ten minutes later hunched over, sitting on the bed dried tears on her cheeks.

"Mom?" he asked softly but still managed to startle her.

Quickly she stood up and strode over to him. She handed him the newspaper.

"Hank," she stated. "Go to my study and use my micro shredder to destroy this paper."

If Hank was curious then he didn't let on, taking the paper he did as she asked.

Feeling a little better she turned to the bed and ripped the sheets off of it, smiling to herself.

_She was going to fix this_.

* * *

Dropping of Christine had been pretty uneventful. He had been happy that she had come back home but really, he couldn't really recognize much of his daughter in the young woman he had dropped off two hours ago. She barely said anything to him on the ride over. And she only gave a token goodbye as she went off to God knows where when he dropped her off at the campus.

Pulling into his driveway though, he dreaded what he would find. He delayed the inevitable, letting the game commentary on the radio finish before he got out of the car and let himself in to the house.

It was a Sunday so Brennan was probably with Angela and Hank was probably playing football with his friends.

Not feeling hungry Booth walked up the stairs his progress hindered by his cane, bypassing his and Brennan's room he opened the door to the guest room and froze.

The bed was bare. No mattress, no sheets, even his suitcases was missing. He must have missed it sitting by the door when he came home.

She had finally done it. She was kicking him out. Feeling heavy all of a sudden he turned around only to find himself face to face with one Temperance Brennan. She was standing there dressed in her casual clothes. T-shirt and yoga pants. He hadn't seen her in casual clothes since moving to the guest room.

Without preamble she took his hand in hers and tugged. "Come with me," she said and pulled.

"Bones," he whispered trying hard not to beg. "Please, don't do this."

She frownded at him. "It has to be done Booth. This has gone on long enough."

Booth closed his eyes tears finally falling as his whole world crashed around him. Feeling his grip on the cane loosen he stumbled only to find a warm presence at his side. Brannan inserting herself under his arm and making him lean on her, becoming his cane. His support. Just like she used to. Before.

Feeling that it was now useless to argue he shuffled forwards, with her help, down the hall. But instead of going to the landing they turned to their bedroom. Confused he allowed her to lead him inside only to stop in his tracks.

He caught sight of the dresser and saw his after shave next to her perfume. His hair brush next to hers. The gunsafe was open and his badge and gun shone from inside it. The closet, also open and his suits, t-shirts, jacket and jeans hung next to her tops, skirts, pants and dresses.

No suitcase in sight. He turned to Brennan hoping against hope that this was real and not some cruel joke.

She led him to the bed and made him sit. Settling next to him she took his hand and held it in her lap.

"Booth," she said softly. "This has gone on long enough. I have been wrong. I have been unfair and I need to apologize. I am sorry, Booth," she met his eyes tears spilling down her own. "I am so sorry."

Booth didn't know what to say. He had been so sure that this was it. And now? How did he respond?

"You don't have to say anything," she said answering his unasked question. "Just know that I never can, never will and never have, stopped loving you."

He was stunned. She met his teary eyes, wih her own glassy gaze. God she was so beautiful.

"Let me fix this Booth. Let me fix us."

All he could was nod. He was at a loss for words. She smiled widely back at him through her tears and he couldn't help but grin back.

"Here," she said reaching behind her and grabbing a picture frame. "I didn't know where you would want this."

She handed him the frame with her photo taken almost twenty years ago, smiling beautifully into the camera. Aged twenty years older, the difference between the two were very real. The tweny years had been kind to her but it was still twenty years. Looking at the frame for a second he smiled then tossed the thing out the door they came through.

"Booth?" Brennan asked perplexed at his actions.

He smiled as he tucked a graying strand of her hair behind her ear. "I don't need that anymore. I've got the real thing back, and that picture?" He asked leaning in close. "It pales in comparison."

She smiled beautifully in understanding. "You never lost me, Booth. I love you."

He smiled back. "And I love you."

And finally after a year apart she closed their distance.

* * *

**_A little heartwarming a little heart breaking right? Tell me what you think. Thanks for reading! _**


	10. Chapter 10

Brennan woke up feeling decidedly uncomfortable. Ever since their reconciliation, after Christine's return, she had not spent a night apart from her husband.

Now waking up on the slim, three feet wide, faux leather encased bench set against one wall of the observation room she was less than pleased about their predicament. One look into the observation window though and the resentment faded as she saw her eldest draped halfway over his mother's bed holding onto her hand. He was sleeping and fitfully from what she could see.

Sighing heavily at the thought of her family's upcoming trials she got up and rushed down to the decon room. Freshening up and using the new pack of toothbrush and toothpaste provided there she did her morning ablusions. Showering quickly before donning on a blue pair of scrubs Bennan marched towards Rebecca's ward.

Walking in she was surprised to see Rebecca awake, her hand stroking Parker's long curling locks as he slept, seeming more at peace since before she scrubbed up.

"Temperance?" she asked in a semi whisper as Brennan entered the room. "What are you doing in London?"

Most people would be affronted at the wording of her question but Brennan was always practical and appreciated the direct approach.

"I'm not in London, Rebecca," she replied taking a seat opposite Parker. "You are in DC."

Her eyes widened as she looked down at her son. "Oh."

"Yes," she replied sternly. She sat gently taking Rebecca's hand in hers. "Rebecca, when were you diagnosed?"

She sighed avoiding Brennan's piecing gaze. "A month ago," she admitted. "I went to the hospital because I had broken my wrist. The doctor did some x-rays and said that I had stage two Osteosarcoma. I researched it and with the mortality rate what it was? I just thought that getting immediate treatment was the best option."

Brennan frowned. Osteosarcoma at stage two _had_ to be wrong. There would more evidence than just a broken wrist if it had spread that fast. Plus the most common age group of that type of cancer was early to mid twenties. This diagnosis was feeling more and more ominous by the second.

"Yes, the doctor diagnosed you with bone cancer and you didn't think to contact the person you know who knows most about bones for atleast a second opinion?"

Rebecca looked down at her sleeping son, then back up at his step mother with glassy eyes. "I didn't want to put him through all that. My grandmother had cancer and it was horrible what she went through to treat it and in the end it wasn't enough. I figured that even if the worst happens, Parker will still have a lot of people who care about him." she squeezed Brennan's hand lightly.

Brennan scowled. "Well you were wrong!" she said bluntly making the blonde blink. "I refuse to be a replacement in Parker's life because you thought that you were replaceable in his life. That is not true!" she was vehement in her quiet exclamations.

"Parker needs you, Rebecca. And we need you as well. Parker is not the only one who loves you," she said earnestly.

Rebecca was a little overwhelmed with emotions that her one time rival, now close friend was unloading on her.

Getting a hold of her anger, Brennan looked at Rebecca intently. "I want you to know that I have ordered your medical history, your oncologists diagnosis and your x-rays. I wish to make sure that you are actually sick from cancer before you go in for you next cycle of chemotherapy."

Rebecca gulped at the last word Brennan said but registered the rest of them slowly.

"What are you saying? I mean they wouldn't say I had cancer unless I actually did have it right?"

"Did they give you a CT scan? MRI? I'm sure they would done a biopsy before administering chemotherapy. Surely."

Rebecca nodded slowly. "I had a CT scan and an MRI that confirmed the doctors findings. Biopsy? What's that?"

Brennan nearly groaned at the level of incompetence she was finding in Rebecca's treatment. Trying to regain some semblance of control she ventured to explain in laymen terms about his very important procedure.

"Osteosarcoma manifests in the bone as a tumor. The presence of the tumor allows the cancer to spread from the tumor to the rest of the body. Now if your wrist breaking was a result of the cancer than the chances are that your tumor is located at the shoulder joint where bone growth occurs.

"A competent oncologist would spot the tumor within an x-ray of the affected area and confirm his findings with a CTScan, MRI and finally take a sample of the blood and tissue from the site of the tumor from the victi- I mean patients body. This procedure is known as a biopsy. It's usually a very painful process despite anesthesia. I'm sure if it had been performed, you would have known about it."

Rebecca shook her head, extreme concern evident on her face. "They never did anything like that," she said aghast.

Before she could say more though, Parker stirred. He sat up blinking and spotted his mom sitting across from him all scrubbed up.

"Mom?" he asked confused.

"Good morning Parker," she said gently all traces of frustration gone from her face. She nodded towards Rebecca. "Say hello to your mother."

Parker's eyes widened as he looked quickly over to see his mother alert and wake.

"Mum!" he exclaimed getting up and giving her a tight hug.

Rebecca oomphed a little. "Ooh easy there buddy, don't want to rattle your old mum there, eh?" she said cheerfully, the two mothers successfully hiding their concern about her diagnosis from their son.

Brennan smiled and got up. "Hank's probably arriving soon. I'll have them send some breakfast up." she took up Rebecca's hand again. "Could you make sure he eats? He barely nibbled at dinner."

Parker frowned at her mom's betrayal as his mum scowled at him. Smiling sadly at her oldest Brennan gave him a tight hug and walked out, her countenance changing from sad to angry as she concluded more and more that Rebecca's diagnosis was inaccurate.

And someone was going to pay.

* * *

Interestingly it was Hank and Christine who showed up to relieve her.

"Hey mom," said Hank cheerfully, handing her the keys to her Tesla. "I got your car here so you won't have to catch an FTS*."

Hugging Hank close in thanks Brennan glanced over at his daughter who seemed to be lagging behind Hank looking nervous. She also seemed to be a little dressed down which was understandable since she had obviously slept over at their house.

Narrowing her eyes at the way Christine seemed to be avoiding her eyes she released Hank and thanking him again for relieving him and took her daughters hand pulling her out of the room.

"Mom! What...?" she asked as Brennan called the elevator.

"There's a cafeteria here. We'll go there, have some coffee, then we can talk."

"Talk about what?" she asked confused.

Brennan just gave her a look that implied that she knew exactly 'what'.

Ten minutes later coffees clutched in hand Brennan settled down on opposite her daughter and prepared to listen. She didn't even have to be prompted.

"I'm so sorry, mom."

She studied her daughter wondering. There weren't a lot of things that she had done that deserved apologies. Well of course there was that one... thing...? She closely observed Christine, the dark circles around her eyes, the tearful gaze, the grief in her eyes, as if someone had died.

"Oh," Brennan finally said. "You don't have to apologize. You didn't know."

Her daughter's back straightened and Brennan almost smiled, she was so like her and then so much like her father. The evidence of their marriage, of their life together sat right in front of her.

"Mom," she whispered angrily. "You and dad were sleeping in separate beds! Dad was thinking of moving out! That's something that I am at fault for!"

Brennan's eyes widened. "Did your father tell you that?" she asked concerned.

Christine nodded. "I got the whole story out from Hank but dad filled in the part where he was considering moving out so that you wouldn't have to see his face and cry yourself to sleep."

Brennan's eyes filled. There was no way Booth would have just said those things. He would had to be pushed into it. Especially if he said that to Christine. This was not good.

"Your father and I have been through a lot to get to where we are today. We survived that just like we survived everything else. We can survive anything."

"Only this time, the person responsible is me."

Brennan's personable parent's persona cracked. "What exactly are you hoping to get from me Christine? You can't change the past. I learned that the hard way."

"But mom..!"

"You made a mistake!" she interrupted. "you thought that pushing away the people you care about and focusing on your career was the only way for you to achieve your goals. You were erroneous in your thinking that but that doesn't mean that I will punish you for it!"

"You know your Uncle Lance once said to me that 'You hurt the people you love the most.' And he was right. Booth and I we've hurt each other in the same way that you hurt us. But we moved passed it and became the strong center that we needed to be.

"Right now you are thinking that you were responsible for causing us almost to split up. To eventually seperate. To maybe even divorce."

She smiled gently at her daughter.

"What I am telling you, is that you can't be responsible for something that is not possible." She reached out and placed a comforting hand on her distraught daughters'. "Me and Booth? Splitting up? It's just not possible."

She left her hand there for a moment before withdrawing and standing up.

"Now you have work and I need to go to Booth." at her questioning look she explained. "By your level of knowledge of our previous predicament I can only infer that in a burst of anger your father revealed more that he ever wanted to reveal to you. He always believed that you should never learn of what happened when you left. And since you are so much like your father, you can imagine how much guilt he has to be feeling about revealing that to you.

She leaned down to kiss Christine goodbye and left.

* * *

Christine sat there drinking her coffee and fighting to control her tears. She'd really been sort of a wet rag this past few days. She needed to get a handle on these emotions, only the usual techniques of compartmentalising weren't really working. And she wasn't even sure she wanted to lock all of these feelings away anymore.

Just as she finished her drink her phone rang.

"Booth," she said softly into her earpiece as she left the hospital cafeteria dropping her paper cup in the bin on her way out.

"Boss? Looks like we got another one."

She stopped short just outside the door. "Wait you're sure it's the same case?" she asked Jackson urgently.

"Looks like it, same MO" he answered back. "Shallow grave. Young blonde woman. Buried face first. Hands and feet tied."

"Wait they dug her up!" she asked her temper flaring as she jogged to the elevator. "Cordon off the crime scene! Give me a ten yard perimeter and make sure that no other piece of evidence is compromised. Get the Jeffersonian team there ASAP. I'll get Dr Michael."

She shut of the the phone as the elevator deposited her out into the parking garage. Running to her SUV she got in and sped off.

Breathing a calming breath as she switched on the siren and felt her mind clear. Murder she could deal with. Emotions? Not so much.

* * *

Six shots rang out in quick succession hitting the target square in the cetre, the close grouping causing a large hole to form where the bullets hit.

Booth ejected the clip and put in a new one, aiming down the sights once more before pausing. His anger ridden face relaxed into a little bit of a smile as he felt her presence behind him.

Putting the gun down and removing the ear muffs he turned around to find his wife standing behind him a pair of her own muffs covering her ears. She removed them as he turned and moved to stand in front of him.

"You okay?" he asked as Brennan moved closer.

She nodded and put her arms around him. He didn't resist her offer and enveloped her in his embrace. They stayed like that in the empty gun range for a long while just taking and giving comfort.

"You know, I now have to lean a little to the right to make sure I hit the target."

Brennan laughed a little against his collarbone and allowed the light topic to surface through the tension. "Well, physically speaking your injury causes you to lean a little to the left to compensate for the stiffness and the pain. Without the cane you will have to compensate for the change in position to allow you to perform at your usual best."

Booth pulled back and grinned at his wife. "Don't ever change, Bones."

She leaned in to steal a kiss. "I wouldn't dream of it Booth."

His smile dimmed a little and Brennan shifted a little to ready herself. "I shouldn't have told her."

She made a sad face at his words. "She was bound to find out eventually Booth."

He nodded his agreement at that idea. "Yeah but the way she found out. I..." he shook his head as he moved a little out of her arms. She followed him keeping their contact.

"You lost your temper," she stated matter of factly.

He scowled at the reminder. "She told you?"

Brenna shook her head. "No. She didn't have to, the only reason that she would know of those details would be if she heard from either me or you. Since I didn't tell her, I deduced that it was you and since you wouldn't ever reveal this to her without being pushed I assume that she caused you to lose your temper."

A wry smile formed on his lips. "So many assumptions, Dr Brennan. Where's your evidence?"

She smirked right back and pointed at her head. "Right here," then she pointed at her heart. "And here."

He grinned at her again before becoming contrite. "I'm sorry I lost my temper at her Bones. It just all came out. I don't know why..."

"You're allowed to be angry at her Booth," she interrupted. "Her actions are responsible for the biggest rift in our marriage."

Booth stared at her. "I shouldn't be angry at my own daughter, Bones," he said trying to convince himself as much as her but failing.

"Why?" she asked incredulously. "Being our daughter doesn't make her a paragon of virtue. It makes her human, just like us."

He moved back again and this time she let him. "Yeah, I know but," he hesitated before meeting her eyes knowing that she wouldn't judge him. "That anger? It was lot more than I thought it would be. I just don't want to..." He still trailed off still not willing to voice his concern.

Brennan caught on to his line of thinking and stepped close to him once more. "You are not your father, Booth."

Booth frowned, not really surprised that she got what he was thinking but...

"Yeah," he replied. "I know that, but that anger? I've never felt that way towards Christine. I love her Bones."

She reached up and rubbed his biceps with her open hand trying to offer what comfort she could.

"I know you love her Booth. She does too." She stopped her hands motions but didn't release his arms. "Loving someone doesn't mean not being angry or disappointed in them. Nobody's perfect and we all do things that hurt the people we love. I've learnt over time, mostly from you, that when someone you love hurts you, you can be angry at them, disappointed with them. But if they are repentent? When they recognize how they hurt you and are sorry? Then you can forgive them as well."

Slowly Booths frown lifted as he listened to his wife's words. The tables are definitely turned, he thought to himself. He pulled Brennan back to his chest. Holding her close he wondered once again, that this amazing woman was willing to be with him.

"You are amazing, have I told you that lately?" he asked pulling back a little to look at her.

"You may have mentioned it recently," she replied smiling at him and smoothing his lapels. "You have also said that I am extraordinary, beautiful, exceptional, stubborn and a know it all."

He grinned. "All true," he agreed. "My Bones is the perfect woman."

Returning his grin she shifted to his left side helping him walk to his cane over at the entrance of the range.

"Well your Bones is hungry," she said as they exited. "Treat me to breakfast before I have to go back to the Hospital?"

Booth smiled at his wife. "Sure, Bones. As long as you don't try to make me eat those lab made burgers."

"Lab produced burgers are perfectly healthy alternatives to the more traditional, greasy, high calorie meat that you normally consume. It's completely safe and it's good for you Booth. You should try and eat a little healthier. You're really not getting any younger you know?"

Booth groaned comically for effect. "Oh now you're calling me old Bones."

"It was not my intention to offend, I was merely concerned for my husbands health."

Bickering good naturedly the couple walked as fast as they could out of the Hoover.

* * *

Christine and Michael exited the SUV without much fanfare. Walking over to the crime scene she flashed her badge at the local PD and ducked under the yellow tape.

Michael was already pulling on his gloves. Greeting the officer guarding the crime scene genially he followed Christine under the tape.

The sight that greeted him was not very encouraging. The area had been trodded on and half uncovered remains was sticking out from the soil.

"What happened here?" he asked his partner who sighed.

"Apparently some treasure hunters found disturbed soil and decided to dig, they called the police when they unearthed her."

Michael shook his head and decided to get to work before more evidence was compromised.

Meeting Rachel crouched next to the victims he asked her for her findings.

"Blow fly larvae indicates time of death to be less than three days, I'll be able to be more specific in the lab."

Michael nodded and moved down to inspect the victims half decomposed skull.

"The mandible and zygomatic arch indicates female. The length of the femur suggests approximately twenty five years old."

Christine nodded and took out her notebook. Rachel passed by her and raised an eyebrow at the pen and paper. "Notebook, Agent Booth. Isn't that a little archaic?"

Christine smiled at the other woman, a little frosty. "I don't criticize your process do I Dr Lars," she asked sweetly as she turned back to her partner. "What else can you tell me?" she asked Michael pointedly.

Michael smirked at the two before looking back down. "Blunt force trauma to the parietal is consistent with Miss Bannings injuries. Hands and feet bound. Buried face down." he looked at Christine grimly as he climbed out of the shallow grave. "I am comfortable enough to say that the MO does match the Epps copycat killer."

Christine nodded back all trace of humor gone from her eyes.

"Alright," she said turning to Jackson. "Coordinate with Dr Lars here to transfer the remains and surrounding particulates to the Jeffersonian. Also get me the _treasure hunters _who found her body."

Jackson frowned and followed her as she and Michael started back to the SUV.

"They're just dumb kids, why would you want to talk to them?"

Christine stopped as they reached her car and turned to fix Jackson with a glare. "Because the last time someone _found_ an Epps vicitim by themselves in the middle of nowhere? They were working for him."

With that she and Michael climbed into the SUV and drove out of the crime scene.

* * *

_*** FTS - In this future services like UBER are abundant. So as a collective in this fic any such service will be referred to as FTS or Freelance Transportation Services.**_

_**Sooooo! Another chapter down. Thanks for reading. See ya in the next one! **_


	11. Chapter 11

Brennan and Booth enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at the diner as they discussed their children. Both agreed to have a long talk with Christine and make sure to let her know that they will always love her.

Then Booth brought up a happier topic. "So, what do you think about Andi?"

Brennan's eyes lit up as she gushed.

"She's amazing. You know I have been reading Dr Michaels' papers published in the medical journals for over five years. Judging by her age she was maybe twenty one when she wrote her first paper. Her work on 3D tissue printing and bionics is unparalleled. She's just amazing!"

Booth smiled indulgingly at his wife. "That's great Bones. What I was asking was how do you feel about her being your new daughter in law?"

Brennan looked at Booth as if he was purposefully acting stupid. "Didn't you hear what I said just now Booth," she asked exasperated.

Booth nodded still smiling. "Well then I agree, she does seem pretty amazing."

Brennan frowned then. "Why do you think Parker didn't tell us about her."

Booth mirrored her frown as he thought about all he knew of his son. "Well, you know Parker, he over thinks things. Sort of like you," he smiled at her affronted look. "He probably thought we wouldn't approve."

Brennan scowled at that thought. "Why would he think that?"

Booth sighed as he wondered about his eldest. "Well it's got more to do with me than you I think," at her raised brow he continued. "Parker thinks I have expectations of him. You know I went to the army, fought for my country, became an FBI Agent. I think Parker thinks that if he doesn't do what I did with his life then I would be disappointed with him."

Brennan's fork hit the plate as she stared. "You don't really think that, do you?"

Booth shook his head no. "Of course not Bones! I love Parker. I love that he didn't do what I did. The horrors I went through and saw? I don't ever want my son to experience any of that."

Brennan nodded accepting his words readily. "I don't understand how that would apply to Andi though. He is marrying a genius level intellect scientist who is the best in her field. Which you did as well."

Booth smirked at her. "Wow, modest there Bones?"

"Just stating the facts," she volleyed back a coy smile on her face as she dug in once again into the vegan omolet. "You know how you once said that if Parker turned out like me you would be the proudest dad in the world."

Booth nodded. "And I still believe that."

Brennan smiled at her husband. "Maybe you should tell him how proud you are of his accomplishments, so that he doesn't doubt your approval."

Booth looked down at his burger, suddenly not hungry. "He knows that, though. Right? I might not say it all the time, but he knows that I'm proud of him."

Brennan gave him an uncertain smile and shrugged. Booth shook his head and pushed away his plate suddenly sick with himself. His son of nearly forty didn't know that his father was proud of him.

Shit.

* * *

Booth left the paperwork at his desk and snatched up his car keys two minutes before twelve. He limped out to the bullpen and stomped to the elevator. Almost there, he was stopped by an agent.

"Director Booth?" turning to Agent James he leaned on his cane and waited. "Here are the records you requested."

"Rebecca's?" he asked gratefully as he flipped through the folder only to close it back up as a ton of medical jargon yelled back up at him.

"Yes sir, although I'm sorry but I wasn't able to find any record of X-rays in the system."

Booths eyes widened now seriously confused. "No X-rays? Seriously? Than how did this doctor diagnose bone cancer without even looking at her bones?"

James shrugged. "There were no records of X-rays being logged into the system."

Booth scowled down at the folder but dismissed James telling him to keep an ear out incase he needed something more.

James nodded and left as Booth entered the elevator and took out his phone.

"Angela? Hey. Yeah... You too... Listen, how quickly can you hack in to a London Hospitals medical records."

The WHAT! that came from the other end made him grateful that he had moved the phone away from his ear before she answered.

* * *

In the end Angela didn't hack into the hospitals servers as that would probably incite an international incident. Instead she called up an old contact of hers from her Jeffersonian days based in London and had _him_ hack into the severs.

As he exited the elevator onto Rebecca's ward he felt his phone go off and grinned a little at Angela's efficiency. Ignoring the notification for now he walked into the observation room only to be shushed by his wife.

The scene he walked in on melted his heart. His son, still in scrubs was lying with his head in his wife's lap as she stroked his hair gently. Parker seemed to be lost to the world, his face finally devoid of worry in sleep.

Booth left his cane at the door knowing it would make too much noise and used the wall to slowly make his way to the bench opposite his wife and son. Sinking into the cushioned bench he studied them for a moment as Brennan gently soothed his son, the love between the two almost palpable. He was one lucky SOB.

Pulling out his phone he decided to see what Angela had sent him instead of disturbing his family. Frowing he reread the email and shook his head. What the hell?

Feeling his frustration Brennan caught his eye and asked silently what the problem was. Figuring he'd just show her he leaned forward to pass his phone to her.

Brennan read the report and shared his frown. Apparently the x-rays _had_ been taken. But the hack revealed that two days ago all record of the x-rays had been deleted from the server. This just kept getting better and better.

Parker stirred just as Brennan finished reading Angela's email. Turning over he glanced up at his mom frowning at the phone and turned his head to see his father sitting on the opposite bench.

Booth glanced down to see Parker awake but bleary eyed as he focused on him.

"Hey, bub. Comfy there, Parker?" he asked his son in jest, figuring that keeping things light was the best for now.

Parker assessed his position thought for a second then smirked at his dad. "Pretty comfy, yeah Dad." he replied feeling a little more cheered after getting a few hours of sleep that wasn't in a hospital chair.

Turning his head back up he met his mom's eyes as she beamed down at him. Without hesitation she leaned down and touched her lips to his forehead and for that moment all of his problems were forgotten. As she straightened up though he gently got up from her lap and sat down beside her.

Brennan bonked her head sideways with his gently then went back to perusing the phone. "Something interesting there mom?" he asked her curiously even as his eyes flitted over to his mum sleeping in the clean room.

"Hmm," she hummed as she finished reading the message one last time. "Yes, Parker. There seems to be something going on with your mother's medical records."

She looked to Booth to fill in the blanks since she didn't have all the information. Booth seamlessly took the reigns with practiced ease.

"So I asked one of Agents in Records to pull up Rebecca's records from her doctors over in the UK."

Parker nodded knowing his dad knew his pass key in case of emergencies.

"Well the records were handed to me this morning," he pulled a stack of files from his bag and handed it to Brennan. "there weren't any x-rays in the examination report that diagnosed your mother's cancer."

Parker blinked. "But x-rays are the most common identifiers of bone cancer," he recited. "the tumor weakens the bone enough to break and in the ensuing treatment the cancer is spotted in the patients x-rays."

"That is correct," agreed Brennan as she finished flipping through the file. "However your father is also correct. There is no record of an x-ray being taken in these files."

"Yeah," said Booth. "I found that odd as well so I called Angela and she called a friend who hacked into her hospital records for me."

Turning a blind eye at the confession of multiple laws being broken he turned to his dad. "So what happened?"

"It turns out, that the record was wiped. Someone wiped the records clean off the server. The back door hack revealed that someone had deleted it."

Parker was stumped. "What? Why? Why would someone do that?"

"Well," said Brennan slightly stretching the word out as she gathered her thoughts. "I think it's because your mother doesn't have Bone Cancer."

"What?!" yelled Parker standing up.

Brennan remained calm well used to the Booth boys temper tantrums. "I need to be sure," she qualified. "But her history," she indicated the file in her hand. "Plus the fact that I met Rebecca six months ago and didn't find anything amiss, reveals that she was possibly misdiagnosed."

"So whoever diagnosed her with cancer figured out his mistake and deleted her x-rays to save his job." said Booth catching onto his wife's train of thought.

"More like save his life!" replied Brennan. "malpractice is one thing but the fact that he administered Chemotherapy to a non cancer patient? That could see him spending time."

"Wait. Wait. Wait." said Parker still agitated. "What do you mean misdiagnosed?"

"You know what it means, Parker," replied Brennan frankly. "Your mother was told she had cancer when she didnt. She didn't have any normal symptoms of osteosarcoma, she didn't have any severe joint pains in her bones prior to her diagnosis. And Rebecca told me that she didn't have a biopsy when she went in for confirmation."

Parker was almost pulling out his hair, fear, anger, grief and so much relief was warring with each other inside his head. The words No Cancer was ringing in his ear.

"I didn't want to say definitively without doing some scans but I couldn't keep you in the dark," she said as she got up and folded her son in her arms. "Your mother does not have cancer, Parker," she told him firmly. "She's not going to leave you."

He looked into her eyes finding, as usual, her absolute belief in her abilities and pure and honest truth shining in her eyes.

"Oh thank God," he uttered as he collapsed in her arms tears of relief flowing without stopping as this roller-coaster ride of the the past forty eight hours finally stopped.

* * *

Michael was sitting at his desk the photos from the crime scene all in holoscreens taking up his entire field of view. He studied the remains in detail. Zooming in on the high resolution 360 camera capture that allowed him to virtually walk the crime scene. Swiveling his chair around to see behind him on yet some more holoscreens were the pictures, unfortunately _not_ in 360, of the Annette Bannings burial site.

While not as high resolution and definetly not captured by some one who knew what to look for, the placing of the body, the positioning, the way it was bound. It all pointed to Epps. If he was alive.

No one copycat killer had ever been so precise as this. This didn't just speak of someone who read the Epps case file. No this was someone who actually knew how Epps thought. How Epps killed. If he wasn't such a skeptic he would even posit as to the possibility that Howard Epps might have been reincarnated and was once again carrying on his legacy.

Michael paused. Reincarnation? What the hell was he thinking. God he was going crazy waiting for the remains to arrive. He needed a voice of reason before he also started believing in tooth fairies and Santa Claus.

A sharp ringing permeated his ruminations as his Aunts smiling face took up a holoscreen, splashing in front of the other screens. Speaking of a voice of reason, he gladly accepted her call.

"Auntie B!" he greeted gratefully. "Is everything okay?" he asked suddenly realizing a little late as to where his aunt actually was.

She nodded smiling. "Yes, don't worry Micheal Vincent, everyone is okay. Actually we might be even more than okay."

"I...I'm not sure how to respond to that Auntie B."

Understanding his confusion she hastened to explain. "After studying Rebecca's medical history and Parker and Rebecca's own testimony I have come to the conclusion that Rebecca is not actually suffering from Bone Cancer."

Michael's eyes lit up. "Really Auntie B? That's amazing news."

His aunt grinned. "I thought so," she said looking pleased with herself. "However as certain as I am, I will not be satisfied without incontrovertible evidence."

Michael nodded agreeably knowing his aunt very well. "I'm sure you won't be," he said. "What do you require of me Dr Brennan." He asked straightening up as he realized that she required his professional help.

Nodding approvingly at his conduct she answered. "I require the help of Jayamma and the multi-spectrum scanner. I believe that Rebecca was misdiagnosed and in order to hide evidence of his malpractice her oncologist has removed any and all x-rays of Rebecca. I wish to take, new and deeper scans to identify what exactly was misdiagnosed as Bone Cancer. I have my suspicions..."

"But suspicions are not helpful, evidence is."

Another grin, she was happy. "Indeed Dr Michael."

"I will tell Jay to get going. He'll be there before three Dr Brennan."

She tilted her head as she looked past him at the holoscreens open behind him. On a window being the victims remains was a half hidden picture of him and Christine embracing. It was taken at the UDC Ball. He had asked her. She had accepted. They were dancing close. Too close.

He had been looking at the picture before refocusing on the case. As he swiped the window close he saw his aunt wipe away a tear.

"Give her a little time Michael Vincent," she requested gently.

Michael smiled a bittersweet smile. "I don't think she's the one who needs the time Auntie B." he said a little depressingly. "I'll send Jay on his way," he muttered as he closed all the screens and said goodbye.

* * *

Brennan closed the phone and tapped it against her chin for a moment. Booth had gone back to the Hoover and Parker was with his mother for now. She had convinced her son not to reveal her revelation to Rebecca yet. When she was absolutely sure of her findings she would tell Rebecca herself.

Now what to do about Michael Vincent and Christine. The two childhood sweethearts were clearly deeply in love. But both were suffering from the memories of Christine's decisions seven years ago. It seemed that Christine was the one who was doing all the pushing and Michael had become a little gunshy. She should know. In the past seven years not once had she seen Michael with a partner.

She knew he wasn't celibate but he preferred to not get emotionally attached. It was all very familiar behavior. Why was her student behaving so much like her? A talk with these two was a long time overdue.


	12. Chapter 12

Michael walked up to the platform his ID automatically being scanned as he climbed up the steps purposefully. Snapping on gloves he turned to examine the victim only to come face to face with a young girl with chestnut colored hair and deep green eyes. Her hair was tied back expertly to keep it away from the evidence and her white coat and gloves were already on. She looked oddly familiar but he coultn place exactly from where.

"You're the new intern." He said it more as a statement than a question. She shuffled a little but nodded nonetheless.

"Yes Dr Michael, Dr Bray would have introduced us yesterday but you were unavailable."

She had a pretty, melodious voice that seemed to soothe the soul. He was intrigued.

"I was working the case," he offered preferring to not stonewall his interns unless they became too intrusive.

She nodded, not offering anything else. He got the feeling that she was nervous. Well first days _were_ tough.

He peeked at her ID card reading the name Marshall and filing that mentally under 'pretty but quiet' in his mind.

"Well Miss Marshall, let's get an evaluation of your skill level." he indicated the recently delivered remains. "Your preliminary findings?"

She took a deep breath and started speaking, this time in a much more assured voice. "Purely from observation, since I didn't think I should touch anything until you arrived, the victim appears to be female, between the age of twenty to twenty five years."

She moved down to the half exposed bones of the victims feet and pointed at her heels. "Evidence of plantar fisciitis indicates that she wore high heels often; suggesting a profession in the food services or office business, wear on the carpal bones seems consistent with carrying things all day. The vertibral column and scapula doesn't show signs consistent with daily eight hour office work so that rules office work out." She studied the victims hands. "Evidence suggests that our victim was most likely a waitress."

Michael nodded impressed with her assessment however he was here to teach after all. "Very good Miss Marshall but you are aware that these observations points to another profession that you may have missed?"

To his amusement the girl blushed. "I didn't miss it Dr Michael," the tiny voice was back and that wouldn't do, would it?

"Miss Marshall, I must ask that you speak more clearly so that I do not have to ask for your observations repeatedly." He didn't want to scare the poor girl so he didn't go all _Brennan_ on her.

"S-sorry Dr Michael," she stuttered still blushing. "T-the plantar fasciitis and wrist bone wear also indicates that she could possibly be an e-exotic dancer."

Michael smiled. "A stripper, Miss Marshall. More specifically a pole dancer, by the looks of it." More blushing, how sheltered was this girl? "Modesty has its place Miss Marshall but not when working with remains. Statistically homicide victims are more likely to be people working in the lower sectors of our society. Sexual assault victims, unfortunately, aren't that rare either."

At the lost look on the girls face he softened his stance a little. "I'm not asking you to not have a heart Miss Marshall, indeed if I were to catch any intern here mocking or making light of the fate of any victim, they would not work here another day. What I ask is for you to be clinical and accurate in you observations, identifying the victim as a stripper, or exotic dancer as you put it, allows investigators to ask the right people, right questions. Instead of knocking on Cafe and Restaurant doors."

"Yes, Dr Michael," she said looking down and perusing the remains once more a look of confusion on her face that she wasn't willing to voice.

"You are wondering what makes me so certain that she is a pole dancer instead of a waitress?"

At her sheepish nod he smiled invitingly. "Never be afraid to ask questions Miss Marshall," he allowed. He slowly moved the victims legs apart and pointed. "Note the markings on her inner thighs and calves."

"Evidence of healed scars, recent bruising and blisters, right where the pole would be," she said loud and clear this time, "You were right Dr Michael."

"Thank you Miss Marshall," he said accepting the praise gracefully. "Your initial assesment was based on, as you qualified, purely observation so you wouldn't have been able to find those marks without touching her. Good work Miss Marshall."

"Thank you Dr Michael."

He nodded. "Now with hands on analysis, what can you tell me?"

For the next hour the doctor and the intern worked diligently to get all they could out of the victims uncleaned remains. All particulates were scraped and handed to Rachel for examination. Mrs Delton joined them for the removal of the flesh before Michael asked his new intern to clean the bones. Feeling optimistic about this new member of the lab, he trudged up to his office to give Christine his findings.

* * *

Christine closed the file on her station that showed the shyly smiling picture of her brothers girl. Keeli Marshall was an interesting case. Both she and her parents were squeaky clean, which raised overt red flags in her mind. Who, in this day and age was so clean? Not even illegal music or movie downloads? Not even a parking ticket?

She felt a little guilty about digging through her brothers girlfriend's personal files but he wanted her to meet the family, and she took that seriously, she had already failed her family once, she wouldn't fail them again.

Sighing she swiped the file away, making a mental note to check with records about obtaining the physical files. Nowadays amateur hackers were everywhere, but most of them never bothered with doctoring the actual documents that they filed.

Michael Vincent's face flashed on the screen and she just stared at it for a moment. He was smiling, laughing. The photo was taken seven years ago, by her. Closing her eyes she tapped the button twice on the headset and put it on.

"Booth," she said firmly, no need to get mushy on the job.

"Chrissy? Preliminary inspection is done, my new intern is cleaning the bones now. I've sent you my findings." And he indeed had, Christine clicked through and read the results

"What am I looking at here Mikey?"

He snorted. "You tell me."

Feeling like a test was coming on Christine's eyes narrowed at the challenge, she squinted at the screen. "Pole dancer, huh? Tox Screen came back positive for alcohol? But not excessive. No drugs, no chemicals in her system. You think this is a competitive pole dancer or the old fashioned one?"

"She was pretty athletic, but the implants that we found, indicate the _other_ kind of pole dancer."

"Breast implants?"

"Nope, Butt."

She let that hang there before snorting. "You got the serial number off of the implant?" she said even as she chortled.

"Yeah, victims name is Clair Scholes. No known family, history of drug trafficking, solicitation, assault and battery, it's all there."

"Next of kin?" she asked looking through the files Michael had sent over.

"Medical proxy, one Marcell Tuggs. He has priors as well. Solicitation."

Christine shook her head as she got up and closed down her computer. "Let's pay Mr Tuggs here a visit, see if he can't tell us something about Clair."

"Pick me up?"

"Sure, I'll be there in ten."

"See you soon Chrissy."

"Yeah."

And they cut the line.

* * *

Christine strode into the lab, her dark gray powersuit cutting an impressive path despite her diminutive frame. She had taken the time to go home and change after the initial crime scene work was done.

Climbing up the steps to the platform she paused as she noticed no alarms going off. Realizing that Michael probably entered her ID chip into the system she let a small smile show at his thoughtfulness and walked briskly past the empty tables and into the Bone Room where her partner was sure to be.

Sure enough Michael and his new intern were lining up the bones on the light table, well the intern was lining up the bones and Michael seemed to be observing. Maybe a little too closely. She couldn't help but notice that the new intern was very cute. Pretty cute. Actually she looked familiar. As the girl looked up at the newcomer Christine's eyes widened in recognition.

Michael noticed her staring and hastened to make introductions. "Agent Booth, meet my new intern, Miss Marshall. Miss Marshall, Special Agent Christine Booth."

"Miss _Keeli_ Marshall, correct," she asked cheekily extending her head which the intern took but not before removing her gloves. She saw Michael nod in approval at her actions.

"Y-yes that correct. Agent _Booth_, did you say?" asked the intern apprehension written all over her pretty face. Christine couldn't help but feel bad about making her nervous.

"You two know each other?" asked Micheal, curious.

Christine grinned. "We have a mutual acquaintance. Remember that sweet little thing that Hank said goodbye to yesterday? By the college gates?"

Michael nodded and slapped his the folder he was holding on his other hand. "That's what's been bugging me all afternoon, I knew I'd seen you somewhere."

By now the poor girl had gone completely red and was looking down awkwardly wringing her hands together.

Taking pity on the sweet thing Christine pulled the girl forward and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. Too shocked at her actions Keeli just stood there for a moment in the embrace before tentatively hugging her back.

Slowly pulling back Christine bit her lip as the girl surreptitiously tried to wipe her tears. She recognized the signs and knew a love starved girl when she saw one.

"W-what was that for Agent Booth?" she asked trying to distract from her fragile emotional state.

"Well Hank says he loves you," she smiled as Keeli blushed red once again. "And anyone my baby brother loves is family to me, so..." She smiled sadly as tears filled the younger woman's eyes once more, deciding to lighten the mood she amended her declaration. "Well, that is unless you murder our cat, in that case we'll have to have a chat."

Christine grinned as she finally got a laugh out of the girl.

Turning to Micheal she nodded. "Ready to go Mikey?" she asked her partner and smiled as Keeli shot an aghast look at her boss at the nickname. Michael placated her with a smile.

"Almost done here, Chrissy," another shocked look this time towards Christine who smiled at the worried intern. "Good Work, Miss Marshall." he complimented as she finished putting the last of the bones in its place. "Take a late lunch then go over the bones noting all of your findings. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Yes, Dr Michael."

Michael nodded and snapped off his gloves tossing them in the bin as he and Christine walked shoulder to shoulder out of the Bone Room leaving a determined intern behind who was looking to prove her worth.

* * *

Jayamma arrived at exactly three o'clock and set up shop in one of the empty patient wards. His portable multi-spectrum scanner was setup in no time and Rebecca was wheeled into the room. The doctor had determined that Rebecca was strong enough now to spend time out of the clean room as long as she didn't leave floor.

The scanner was suspended in such a way that the gurney came right underneath it and Jayamma pressed a button to start the scan.

He turned to Brennan who stood watch over the proceedings and spoke to her in Nigerian.

_"It is unusual for me to be scanning live things under my scanner Dr Brennan."_

Brennan smiled and patted his bicep. _"We appreciate your help Jayamma."_

_"Of course Dr Brennan."_

The scan took maybe five minutes as a rod of light ran over Rebecca's body multiple times. Once done, Parker and Rebecca left for her room and Brennan and Jayamma waited for the results of the scan.

Three holoscreens popped up showing MRI, X-ray and CT Scans. Brennan moved close to the x-ray screen and zoomed in to see the close up of her bone. She identified the fracture that had led to her diagnosis and frowned as she followed her arm up to the most probable place for a tumor to be present.

Nothing.

No tumor.

She was right. Which wasn't a surprise. But she wasn't done. Zooming closer she studied Rebecca's bones a further five seconds and felt her blood start to boil. Her rage was palpable and she fought hard to control it.

_Incompetence_ she could deal with, but when that incompetence harmed someone from her family, well then the gloves would have to come off.

She slipped her phone out of her pocket even as she told Jayamma to print out copies of the scans for the doctors here.

Speed dialing Number One, Brennan waited for two seconds before he picked up.

"Booth," his voice came through the speaker.

"I'm mad," she crunched out.

"At me?" he asked cautiously.

"At the doctor who misdiagnosed Rebecca."

"One Gareth Anderson, Chief Oncologist at the London Bridge Hospital."

"I want him prosecuted, to the full extent of the law. He nearly killed Rebecca. If she had gone through with the second cycle of chemotherapy..."

"I'm contacting Interpol, let me see if I can pull some strings." he paused. "Did you tell Parker? Or Rebecca?"

"Not yet, I'm on my way there now."

"What was wrong with her?"

"Osteoporosis."

"That's the one where bones have holes in them right?"

"In very simplistic descriptions, yes." she replied smiling, knowing exactly what her husband was doing, which was why she had called him in the first place. "It's a disease in which the bones lose density and become porous over time. It _has_ been misdiagnosed as Bone Cancer before, which is why there is a need for biopsy to confirm Cancer. "

"Is it dangerous," he asked already knowing the answer.

"It can be," she admitted. "But it's not actively killing her like cancer."

"And there's medication she can take so that she can live normally, right?" he asked softly.

Taking strength from his calmer demeanor Brennan slowly settled. "Yes, she will have to take some precautions but she can get better and live relatively normally."

"That's good, Bones. You did great. You're great."

"Thanks Booth," she said now smiling widely at his praise. Finally gaining the strength to go talk to her family without bursting out with expletives she cut off the line and went to tell Rebecca the good news.

* * *

Michael and Christine got back into the SUV after checking out Marcell Tuggs place. His home looked deserted and after deft use of Christine's lockpicking skills they determined that he had done a runner.

Calling in a BOLO on Tuggs as a possible murder suspect Christine drove back down to the Hoover telling Micheal that the boyfriend of their first victim was waiting for them.

Michael studied his partner. "Is Parker doing better after Auntie B figured out that Ms Stinson didn't have cancer."

"I haven't spoken to him but Mom said he was over the moon so, that's a good sign right?" she asked smiling brightly at him.

"Yeah," he agreed looking out the window for a moment.

Christine frowned at her partner, then decided to push his buttons. "So I saw you cozying up to Keeli a lot when I came in to the bone room."

Michael jerked his head back and stared at her incredulously. "Really? Ms Marshall is my intern -"

"Wouldn't be the first time an intern started dating their boss, if theres one thing I learned from Uncle Hodgins' stories of the Jeffersonian, is that there's a lot of repressed sexual tension in that lab."

Now Michael was scowling. "It's unethical and unprofessional but," he raised his finger to silence her next comment. "The most important and most relevant point is that Ms Marshall is in a relationship with a very close friend of mine and I would never dream of betraying his trust, no matter how cute Ms Marshall may be."

Christine settled back in her seat a very pleased smile forming on her lips at his answer and the obvious display of loyalty he had to her brother. But of course she couldn't just let this go.

"So you think she's cute, huh?" she asked coyly and grinned as he exploded into an indignant tirade. The long ride back to the Hoover after their fruitless search seemed to be much more comfortable as they bickered back and forth like the friends they had been before.


	13. Chapter 13

The sound of drilling echoed through the house as Brennan helped Booth into his seat. They glanced upstairs as loud banging started and Booth rolled his eyes at his wife.

"Maybe I should..?" he started to suggest only for Brennan to interrupt.

"The boys are taking care of it Booth, let them be."

The cheerful rumble of three adult male voices reached their ears and the couple grinned at the boisterous exchange going on upstairs.

"Changing a lock shouldn't take three men and this much noise, Bones." he insisted as Brennan handed him a fork and he dug in to the quiche that she cut for him.

"Well we have no idea of the state of that room, and getting Rebecca back on her feet is going to take time, she needs a sterile environment still, the task of cleaning that room and fumigating it, that is going to take all of us."

"Not you," he demanded clasping Brennan's hand in his as they used their free hands to eat. "Let the kids handle it, you stay with me."

Brennan had no problem with that. She leaned in to kiss her husband. "Sure Booth, I'll stay. But I will have to leave in the afternoon for Parker's surprise."

Booth shot her a cheeky grin as he shoved a forkful of quiche in his mouth. Swallowing he asked. "She's arriving at eight, right?"

"Mhmhm," she agreed swallowing her own food. "I'll go under the guise of keeping Rebecca company, Angela will take over those duties for the night. And I'll bring her home."

Angela and Hodgins had just returned from their three month stay in Paris that they took every year. Micheal Vincent was smiling more and more since he was staying at his parents house and being pampered by his mom.

The doctors at Rebecca's hospital after seeing Brennan's expert diagnosis had declared her free of any cancer and said that she would need a couple of weeks for her immune system to kick in again. Brennan had offered up sanctuary in her own him for Parker's mother for as long as she needed to get better.

Her diagnosis of Osteoporosis was met with gratitude from Parker and Rebecca and they both hugged the life out of Brennan when she told them the news.

Being released tomorrow with a tone of prescriptions and instructions, Brennan had declared that they would be opening up their guest room once more for Rebecca to stay in.

Andi had been in contact with Brennan everyday since their first chat with each other sharing updates about Rebecca and talking about Parker while bonding over their love of science. She had said that she had finally managed to get a leave of absence from her lab and that she would be flying to DC today.

Brennan and Andi decided to surprise Parker, hence all the subterfuge.

At this moment Christine was with Rebecca in the hospital. Their case had stagnated after that second set of remains that they found. The lab had determined pretty similar results from the new victim as their previous one. The same murder weapon, same MO. Their Entomologist though, was bed ridden with a serious bout of Pneumonia, so at the moment they were just hanging in the air until new evidence resurfaced.

Since diagnosing Rebecca properly Brennan had managed to make some more appearances in the lab and met their new intern. Feeling it was not their place Michael and Christine had not let her in on the fact that Keeli was dating her youngest. As it was Brennan had taken a shine to the shy intern and had taken her under her wing recognizing a fellow childhood trauma victim readily and not bringing attention to it.

Brennan dragged Keeli off to limbo after their case had stagnated and they locked themselves in as they worked in companiable silence, working through case after case. Peacefully identifying remains after remains.

* * *

Keeli idolized the veteran anthropologist and was in awe of her boyfriends mother. But she didn't mention Hank to her apprehensive that she wouldn't approve. She had also hidden from Hank her new position at the Jeffersonian only mentioning that she had gotten an internship. She hoped he wouldn't mind her working with his mom and it wouldn't make things weird between them.

Hank's was the only relationship in her life that she wasn't meek in. He challenged her and pushed her from the very beginning until she eventually began to push back. The more she pushed back the more he pulled her in. She became fiery in his presence, a force to be reckoned with. But now she was once again living with her parents and they were not really the type to allow her to spread her wings, they didn't care that she had an internship. They were mad that she didn't get a better paying job after going to college for four years.

The Marshall's were, for want for a better word, monsters. They were drug traffickers who had used their daughter as a front for a representation for a loving family of three, but in reality she was smoke screen for their illegal dealings.

Because they needed their daughter blemish free to present an innocent front they didn't abuse her physically in the normal sense. She was never slapped or beaten, never belted or done anything that would leave a mark. What they did though could be considered worse. Any perceived infractions from her and she would go without food for a couple of days. She had lost count the amount of times she had had her head dunked in a bucket of cold water until she blacked out.

They dosed her with coke and heroin on more than one occasion to keep her quiet. She still got shudders from her withdrawal to this very day.

This time when she came home she had been hopeful that they might have changed. They certainly seemed more than happy to see her. But yesterday, when she had shown them her intern badge and mentioned her job, they had gotten quiet and she could see the cold return in their eyes. Her father had looked her up and down in a way that made her uncomfortable and her mother had whispered to him as he nodded. They had smiled and told her they were proud and sent her to her room.

She had been having misgivings since then. In three hours Hank was to come pick her up. He was picking up Agent Booth while dropping off his mother at the hospital where his half brother's mom was admitted.

She was waiting on him as he had promised her a surprise. She was anxious to see what he would say to her internship. As she waited, the doorbell rang and she thought he was early. She heard the door open and a whispered conversation take place. She silently opened the door to her room and crept down the hall curious as to who was at the door.

She manged to catch some of the conversation as she looked down the landing and caught sight of a man holding a case and handing her mother a wad of cash.

"That's, forty thousand now and the rest when we all get to see her. Her photo's look promising. You sure she's a virgin? Because that's another hundred thousand if it's true."

"She's a wallflower," her mother assured him as her deductive mind came to the very horrible conclusion of the discussion happening in her parents living room. "We made sure she was meek and pliable. She wouldn't have given herself to anybody willingly."

Keeli had heard enough but as she crept back up her shaking hand slipped on the banister and she felt her leg hit the landing harder than she intended. The voices downstairs stopped as her father appeared at the bottom of the steps.

He caught her terrified expression and she ran for her life. He stomped up the stairs after her as she slammed the door shut to her room and jammed the door closed with a chair. Frantically pulling out her phone she dialed the one person she trusted above all and hoped he picked up as the pounding on her bedroom door began.

* * *

Christine and Hank exited the parking lot as Hank was animatedly filling in his sister about their early morning adventures with the changing of their guestroom doors locks.

Laughing at the story of Michael and Parker trying to show Hank how to fit in a lock when Hank was already more proficient in the task then either of the nerdy older scientists she shook her head as she climbed into the passenger side of their mother's Tesla.

The tittering stopped though as Hank's phone rang.

Looking at the ID his smile widened as he accepted the call. "Hey, baby..." he frowned as the frantic voice floated across the speaker, he immediately went to panic mode switching to speaker as Christine stilled and focused. "Wait what?!" yelled Hank into the phone.

Keeli Marshall's voice screamed out onto the cabin of the car. "Hank! Please help! They're trying to sell me, Hank. Please Hank! Please! I don't have much time! I'm in my room! I've barred the door! They're trying to come in!"

"Keeli!" Christine spoke up as her brother slammed the car into gear and shot out of the hospital parking lot at illegal speeds. "It's Agent Booth. Calm down and get behind some cover. Find a weapon to defend yourself. We are..."she looked to her brother who pointed to the GPS system. "Five minutes out. I'm calling the cops too. We're on our way."

Before she could answer the line went dead. The siblings shared a worried look even as Christine accessed the cars UHB and commandeered the vehicle using her ID, the speakers on the top of the car blared a siren as police lights flashed from the top of the windshield.

Hank drove expertly through the streets of DC willing his girlfriend to be safe. He _knew_ there was something wrong in her house, he should have pushed her more to tell him. He banged on the steering wheel in frustration as he slid the car through a corner at deadly speeds leveling out and kept going, the sirens blaring through the streets as Christine tried fruitlessly to get Keeli back on the phone.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to break down the door. One minute she was screaming into the phone the next the thing was thrown against the wall as her father slapped her across the face and made her stumble, she reacted on instinct recalling Hank's self defence lessons and kicked her father in his stomach.

He reeled back in pain then straightened up to punch her only for the man in the back to yell out.

"No! Don't damage the merchandise!" she scowled at being referred to a merchandise but snatched up a leg of the broken chair that had shot across the room when they broke down the door. "She's got nowhere to go."

Her father settled and backed away as her mother and the man with the case filled and blocked her escape.

She waved the chair leg frantically at her father. She tried quickly to find someway to prolong her fate. "I'm not a virgin," she cried out as she made her father back off with leg once more. "I've had sex! A lot!" it made her sound promiscuous but if it dissuaded the trafficker then so what. Besides it _was_ true, although it was with only one partner.

"Why you stupid whore!" her mother screamed. "You just cost us a hundred thousand dollars!"

"She's still a good find," the trafficker said lecherously as her father drew closer, she again swung the leg catching his arm and drawing blood with her blow.

"You fucking, bitch!" he screamed trying to close in on her again.

"I've call the cops, and my boyfriend's on her way!" she tried desperately.

"She's lying," muttered her mother. "_Boyfriend_, who'd waste their time with you!"

Keeli struggled to not be beaten down by their words, five minutes she had to wait five minutes. But it was not to be as the man simply raised an eyebrow at her and pulled out a gun. A tranquilizer gun.

"I'm very good at my job, Keeli. You'd make a great sale. I can't let you go."

He told my father to move aside and two seconds later I was out cold.

* * *

Christine shut off the siren as they entered Keeli's neighborhood, she checked her side arm and backup and glanced at her brother.

"You still a good shot?" she asked him.

Hank scowled at her giving her the answer she needed. Reaching down under the seat she pulled out her mother's lock box and punched in the code to reveal her .45. The equalizer was rarely needed but right now it wouldn't hurt to have one at her back.

She checked the mag appreciating the older gun's design as they pulled up to the silent house. She handed the gun to her brother and stopped him from rushing out.

"Hank, I need you keep your cool. Okay? See that car?" she pointed to the expensive SUV parked next to theirs. "She's still inside, probably sedated. They can't hide her, but we can't lose our element of surprise. That's all we have to prevent this from turning into a firefight. Got it?"

She saw him clench his jaw but nod at her, shaking with surpressed rage. Releasing his hand she stepped out the car silently and, with Hank at her back, ran to the door avoiding the windows. She jimmied the lock and found it to be very pedestrian. Sliding the lock pick in she had the door open in seconds and sneaked in with Hank covering her.

She crept into the living room and walked to the stairs looking upstairs and hearing angry voices echo down to them.

Soon they heard shuffling and Christine stilled Hank and made them duck out of sight. They waited and soon saw a stocky man walking down the stairs his arms full as he supported a limp Keeli Marshall. His hands under her arms as he shuffled backwards down the hall.

Hank shifted and she stilled him, waiting. The man supporting her legs was a leaner more put together looking man in a clean leather jacket and expensive effects adorning his person.

They shuffled out to the living room and a woman with stringy limp hair and ill fitting clothes followed in their wake muttering to herself.

As they exited the hallway Christine indicated to Hank silently take the door into the dining room and come back around to block their exit while she held them up.

Thankfully the kid didn't question her judgement and soon it was just her.

She silently walked to the door way and trained her weapon on the biggest threat she recognized in the room.

"Don't move," she said through clenched teeth. "FBI! Drop the girl and put your hands in the air."

They froze. All three stared at her and she smirked internally knowing she was presenting a interesting image. The one day she decided to relax and put something other than her powersuit. She imagined she looked quite non threatening in her casual pants and red top, with her hair loose and her cute little pumps. The very epitome of FBI badassery. The gun in her hand should give them pause though as she stared them down.

"Fuck!" yelled the stocky man letting go of Keeli as he turned and made a run for it, only to stop in his tracks as Hank kicked in the front door and trained his mother's .45 straight at the guys heart.

"Don't move," he said menacingly his eyes flicking to his unconscious girlfriend then back at her father his eyes burning with hatred.

She had to admit, today Hank looked more like an Agent then she did! In his dark jacket and jeans with a huge gun trained on them with a look of intense disgust on his face. He would make a good cop.

"Backup is on its way," she continued addressing the man who was most likely the trafficker. "Put the girl down and move to the wall."

The man still holding Keeli's legs slowly put them down and went to move to the wall. She saw him react only because she was waiting for it. His hand went in to his jacket and he turned pulling out a gun and swinging around to aim at her.

He didn't get a chance to shoot as a different shot rang out and he screamed dropping his gun as a large hole opened up through and through from Hank's bullet as he shot the man through his wrist.

The woman screamed murder and went to run at Christine who blocked her ill advised attack with her gun hand and elbowed her hard in the ribs making her double over.

Grabbing her hand she wrenched it behind her back and shoved the woman straight into the trafficker clutching at his wrist her head made impact with his stomach and he slammed into the wall gasping for breath.

She looked over to Hank who was in his own physical altercation as Keeli's father tried to make another run for it. Hank swung his gun at the man's temple, pistol whipping the man out cold.

Christine kicked the woman's, Keeli's mothers, legs out from under her making her fall on her face. Slamming her heeled pumps down onto her spine she grabbed the traffickers hands, his injured one and turned him around, slamming him none too gently against the wall. Handcuffs out she cuffed the piece of shit as the sounds of sirens filled the neighborhood.

* * *

Booth turned off the game as he looked up at the arrival of his children, he had grown concerned when, after promising to be back in three hours with his sister, Hank had still not arrived. Michael Vincent and Parker were outside starting up the grill for their late night barbecue. And he had been feeling a little too much stiffness in his leg so had taken a break inside the warm living room.

The guest room had been cleared in record time after the lock was changed. It had been fumigated and sterilized and locked back up to make sure that no one went inside for at least twelve hours. The boys had then take a break when Brennan asked her youngest to drop her off at the hospital and pick his sister up.

Hank had readily agreed claiming that he had a surprise to fetch for them anyway. Now that they were later then mentioned he was getting antsy.

The front door slammed open and he was instantly alerted that something was wrong. Christine came rushing into the room her face harried and her hair unkempt she kissed him on the cheek distractedly and tried to help pull him up.

"Hey, Dad. We need the couch please?" she implored him and he allowed her to pull him up recognizing the desperation in her voice.

Moving to the side he watched as his son burst into the room carrying a slip of a girl who looked to be groggy and definitely out of it.

He watched Hank carefully deposit the girl onto the couch and gently called her name to get her to come around.

"Keeli? Hey Keels. Wake up baby," he asked her with deep affection in his eyes as he kneeled next to her, the whole world forgotten.

"Mmm," mumbled Keeli as she tried to get her bearings straight.

"That's it, Baby," Hank said carefully as he brushed her chestnut colored hair out of her drooping eyes. "Come back to me, Keels."

"Don't... don't..." she muttered as she tried to focus on his voice. A smile broke out onto Hanks face as he goaded her.

"Go on, Keels, tell me?" he said as he grabbed her hand in his.

"Don't... call... me... Keels!" she finally grunted in effort as he grinned widely at her.

"Welcome back, babe." he said gleefully as he stole a kiss despite her glare.

Booth and Christine shared an amused look as the two lovebirds started whispering.

Christine read the question in his eyes and glanced out to their backyard to see that the commotion inside had caught the boys attention as well. Before they could rush in she decided to go to them.

Taking her dad's cane and ducking under his arm so that they wouldn't disturb the now canoodling couple she helped him out into the yard getting him settled on the outdoor lounge chair set up near the grill.

Closing the glass door as she watched Hank slowly move Keeli a little to the front to make room for him to get behind her and try to sooth the now trembling young girl. Feeling very proud of her brother, she turned to aprise the family of the new situation.

* * *

Brennan waited patiently next to Angela's little Mini as she observed the crowd milling about the airport. Wondering what her family was up to she finally spotted her soon to be daughter in law slowly walking through the crowd as she dragged her suitcase next to her.

Beaming at the woman approaching she waved excitedly and was met with a fond smile as Andi approached her future mother in law cautiously.

Brennan threw all caution to the wind and hugged the younger woman as soon as she was in clutching distance.

"Hey, Temperance," she said breathlessly at the very enthusiastic greeting. "Thanks for picking me up."

"Of course, honey!" she said pulling back and smiling at her son's fiancé. "Are you ready to knock Parkers boots off?"

Andi laughed well used to Brennan's quirks in the three days she had been communicating with the older woman. "I think you mean knock his socks off, mom." she gasped as the maternal moniker came out unintentionally.

The bright smile on Brennan's face didn't dim, it infact became even more radiant as she pulled Andi in for another hug. "Call me mom whenever you want, honey. I insist."

Feeling that Andi was struggling with her emotions she grabbed her bag and loaded it in the back, herding the other woman into the car.

"Let the sock knocking commence," she declared driving off, not anticipating the drama that was unfolding at her home this very moment.

* * *

Keeli had just gotten her emotions under control and had sat back up with Hank. Her boyfriend was being incredibly attentive and she appreciated his efforts. She was still a bit shell-shocked but she thought she was gaining perspective. Her parents were locked up and she wasn't being sold off to the highest bidder. However it was only sinking in that she was essentially homeless now.

She asked if Hank could bring her a glass of water as she tried to process. Hank got up to comply and Keeli hugged herself tightly as she tried to concentrate on her surroundings. The house was big and lived in. Everywhere she looked she could see evidence of her boyfriend and his family's life. She smiled as she spotted pictuers of Agent Booth as a child. It was hard to picture the tough as nails, but beautiful Agent as anything but that even when presented with evidence that she was once just a cute kid.

Her eyes widened as she spotted pictures of her boss next to Agent Booth. Growing up together. Playing together. There was photo of them dancing, dressed in a tux and gown respectively. The look in their eyes as they stared at each other, even at what must be seventeen years of age, was very telling.

She glanced up to see the front door open and stared apprehensively as her mentor walked in with a beautiful dark skinned woman, maybe ten years Keeli's senior.

Dr Brennan was talking to the woman next to her so didn't notice immediately that a relative stranger was sitting on her couch. When she did, she paused.

"Keeli?"

"Hey Dr Brennan," she waved miserably not knowing what to say to her and wishing that Hank would hurry up.

"What are you doing here," she asked gently as she approached the girl, recognizing her trembling as a sign of distress.

Tears filled Keeli's eyes as she observed her mentor tip toe around her and everything from the day, from her life really, suddenly caught up to her and she bolted. She tried to run past her mentor only for her surprisingly strong grip to stop her in her tracks.

Her distressed gaze met Dr Brennan's concerned one and she broke. Shuddering violently she let her tears go as she gasped for breath and sobbed. Suddenly she was wrapped up in the warmest embrace she had ever experienced as the mother of her boyfriend gathered her in her arms and held on.

She heard the rumbling from her chest as she bellowed out.

"BOOTH FAMILY? LIVING ROOM. NOW!"


	14. Chapter 14

**_Hey! So it's been a while and the reason for that is that I have finally given in and launched a short story on Amazon. This is pretty big deal for me since it took a lot of effort on my part to actually put my works in front ot the public eye. _**

**_The story is called Sentient by N Kumar and it's on Amazon Kindle for the low price of $0.99._**

**_It's a story told from the perspective of the planet earth as if it was a living breathing organism, and it's experience through the years in that context. _**

**_But_****_ more about that at the end notes. For now? Let's read on, SSA Booth!_**

* * *

Booth's eyes widened as he heard his wife shout from the house. He watched amused as Christine and the boys dropped everything they were doing at once and rushed into the house.

He grabbed his cane and slowly stood up, wobbling a little before gaining his footing. By the time he reached the living room all the kids were settled in the sofas, whether by design or happenstance they also seemed to have paired up, with Parker and the newly arrived Andi seated in one loveseat, Parker obviously overjoyed with the arrival of his fiancé, was holding her hand in his as he beamed at her.

Michael and Christine were also seated on the other loveseat, decidedly _not_ holding hands, with Christine seated with her elbows on her knees, leaning forwards. Micheal was settled in a more relaxed pose leaning back, both kids were in separate corners leaving a respectable space between them.

On the couch sat Hank and for some reason he looked like he had spilled water down his front and was holding a glass half filled with the liquid as he looked forlornly at, who Booth presumed to be, this Keeli that Christine was talking to them about.

Keeli had her head buried in his wife's shoulder as she soothed the crying girl and stroked her trembling back as he had watched her do countless times when Hank and Christine were sad or scared. She was effective as he saw the girl slowly calming down.

Booth met his wife's despondent gaze as she stilled the weeping young woman in her arms and shifted a little allowing him to slip next to her to settle in the corner of the couch leaving Brennan and Keeli in the middle.

Brennan, now assured by the presence of her husband and his unquestioning support, adresed Michael first. "Michael Vincent? Why was your intern sitting crying in our house? Why is she here?"

He saw her words affect the girl as she tried to shift out of her arms at the perceived rejection. Brennan held on tight and leaned in to whisper in her ear so that only Keeli and Booth himself was able to make out her words.

"Stay, sweetie," she said running her hand through her chestnut colored hair. "I need to know _why_ you're here, that doesn't mean I do not want you here. Don't jump to conclusions."

Keeli stopped struggling at her words and her sobs subsided but she stayed in his wife's arms. He had a feeling the girl had never experienced a loving mother's embrace and was relishing in the feeling.

Michael spoke up then to answer Brennans question. "Auntie B, Ms Marshall..." he paused, upraising his intern. "Keeli, is not here through my invitation." he looked nervously towards his partner still a little unnerved as he was scrutinized under Brennans piercing gaze. "Maybe, Christine and Hank are the best people to ask for explanations."

Christine, surprisingly, didn't get angry with Micheal at putting her on the spot with her mother. She merely straightened up and nodded.

"Keeli, is much more than just the new intern at the Jeffersonian, mom," she spoke softly enough to be heard but not too loud as to maintain some semblance of civility as she discussed the upcoming difficult subjects. "Keeli went to college with Hank..." Hank butted in at this point finally taking eyes of his girlfriend and meeting his mothers.

"Keeli and I have been dating for over two years," he said blushing a little when Brennan's eyes widened in understanding. "I was going to pick her up today to meet you all, that was my surprise, only..." he trailed off hoping that his sister would pick up the slack.

"Only Hank got a call three hours earlier then their scheduled pick up. It was Keeli, she was screaming into the phone that her parents were trying to sell her."

"Sell?" his wife gasped as she pulled back to look at the despairing girl. "Oh honey," she said softly as Keeli tried to avoid her eyes. Kissing her forehead again she pulled the younger woman back in her arms, continuing to offer more comfort.

"We weren't far off," Christine said trying to move them along. "So we sped to her house only to find her drugged and being carried out to the traffickers car. Hank and I managed to subdue her kidnapper and her parents as well. They were caught and they're facing serious charges of human trafficking, drug dealing, child abuse, neglect and anything more that we can make stick."

"Only thing is, mom," Hank said hesitantly. "Now that Keeli's parents are in jail, there's really no place for her to stay. I mean she can afford a few days of hotel stay but then her funds would run dry..." he trailed of as he watched his mother hug his girlfriend closer to her.

"That's a ridiculous argument, Hank," Brennan replied frankly. "She will stay with us of course, as long as she wants."

Booth smiled at the arrested look on his sons face. This was something that his children would never understand; how giving his wife really was. The woman who gave faces to the dead and lost for a living? The woman who paid for a bridge to be built to save an entire town? The woman who went to places where people who could kill you in seconds stood four feet away from her as she dug up mass graves, just to give an identity to the wronged? Of course she would have Keeli stay. He was prepared for that declaration as soon as he saw her hugging Keeli on the couch.

Keeli on the other hand went to protest at which point Booth decided to step in.

"My wife is right, Keeli," he spoke over any self conscious objections she might have. "We have room to spare and you're a part of our family now. This isn't because you are dating my son. This is because we care about you. My wife adores you, and she will move heaven and earth to make sure that you are happy."lll

He had of course been the recipient of more than a few delighted rants at home for the last few days of the new intern of Michael who had so much promise and paid so much attention to detail. His wife had, on more than one separate occasion, lamented the fact that she was no longer working as she would have loved to take Ms Marshall under her wing and teach her all she knew.

The girls cheeks were streaming with tears as she accepted Brennans hug and stared at him in wonder over her shoulder. He raised a hand and rubbed the top of her head affectionately and smiled as she closed her glossy eyes in contentment.

He felt his phone vibrate and sighed at the broken moment flipping out his device and speaking into it.

"Booth?" he asked gruffly and smiled reassuringly as Keeli's eyes snapped back open.

"Where?" Booth asked as he was notified of a body being found. "What?... How? Okay... Yes. Get the Jeffersonian tech and forensic team down there and wait for Dr Michael and Agent Booth," he ordered as he smiled apologetically at his children who had already begun to get up. Snapping his phone shut he nodded to the two.

"Body found rotting in a Crematorium, out of town in West Virginia. The undertaker was away for the week and came back to find his basement stinking with decomp. Jackson is sending the location to your Unit."

Christine nodded and strode up the couch and leaned down to kiss his cheek. He still got a thrill at her new openly affectionate disposition. It felt good to have his daughter back. She hugged him and moved over to hug both her mom and Keeli, whispering something to the girl which made her smile and finally loosen the hold she had on his wife. Ruffling Hanks hair she walked over to the door to slip on her shoes and told Michael that she would bring the car around.

Michael rocked on his heels for a moment before moving forward and offering his hand to Booth. Who shook it firmly and the two shared a look that only a father could share with the man in love with his daughter. Receiving the message loud and clear Michael walked over to the door and also slipped on his shoes only to pause, remembering something crucial; Dr Lars was still out on medical leave!

"Hey guys?" he asked the room but his focus was on his partners older brother. "I'm in need of an Entomologist, know anybody who can help me out?"

* * *

Parker got in to the back seat of the SUV as Micheal Vincent walked around to the front passenger side. He felt a sense of deja vu as he remembered his occasional excursions in his father's FBI issue vehicle while he drove around with his partner in tow and him, as usual, in the back seat.

The situation was also similar as he saw two people in love, sitting in the front seats trying to ignore their attraction to each other and focus on catching killers. The more things change, huh?

"So where are we going?" He asked breaking the slightly tense silence.

"West Virginia, two hour drive so settle in, big bro." Christine smirked clearly enjoying bossing him around in her vehicle.

Parker nodded, not at all perturbed by his sisters teasing. "So? Hank has a girl, huh?"

His sisters eyes widened even as he saw her partner tune them out clearly coordinating his forensic team to make sure that they start gathering evidence as soon as they reached the crime scene.

"Wait, baby bro didn't call you for advice on how to talk to his crush or anything?"

Parker snorted. "I'm the last person he should look for advice. I had my nose buried in books on bugs all the way through college, not exactly someone girls leap up to want to date."

"But he must have asked someone," she wondered as she looked back at him in the mirror. "Hank is way too comfortable with Keeli to not know what he's doing."

Parker smirked and nodded. "Well, I know of only one more person whose known as Hank's confidante," he said glancing to his right. "Someone who can be there for him more than me, someone living a little closer?"

Chrstine could never be accused of being slow on the up take and she shoved her partner gently to get his attention.

Micheal scowled at her not even paying attention to the siblings conversation and signaled for her to wait. Parker sniggered in the back as the good doctor finished his text to his techs and then focused on his partner.

"What, Chrissy?" he asked with a little attitude.

'You knew about Keeli," she stated a little disgruntled.

"No," he replied patiently. "I thought we established a few days ago that I only met her when she came to work for me and recognized her when you identified her as the girl Hank was dating."

"Yeah," she allowed as she pulled out on to the highway and sped off sirens blaring. "But he's in love with her, it's easy to see. He would have had to go to one of you to talk about her."

"You are forgetting that your mother has no conniptions about discussing sexual matters frankly and openly."

Christine allowed this was well. "You're not wrong about that," she qualified. "But this is about love, not sex and I don't think Hank would go to mom for that talk."

Michael sighed and nodded staring out at the passing greenery for a moment before answering. "Hank called me a couple of times to ask about a girl he really liked."

"Aha!" Christine said triumphantly as she maneuvered through the sparse evening traffic.

''I was hesitant at first, since matters of the heart," he glanced at Christine at this then continued. "Is not really my forte, but when your mother is Angela Montenegro-Hodgins, you tend to pick up a few things here and there."

Michael looked out of the window not wanting to look at his partner for this next statement.

"I told him to ask himself is if she is worth the heartbreak."

"Heartbreak?" whispered Christine and suddenly Parker felt like a voyeur in the backseat.

"He told me that she was extraordinary, amazing, beautiful and wicked smart. I told him that those kinds of traits in one person is rare and that it would take work and persistence. There will be times that you will hurt each other, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not.

"I told him that if he was serious about being with this unnamed person, and not just interested in sleeping with them, then he should understand that the best ones are the most work. Sometimes it will feel like climbing a mountain so steep that letting go and falling into the abyss would be easier than reaching the summit.

"So I said that he needed to ask himself if she was worth climbing that mountain? If she was worth risking it all, even if in the end she might end up ripping your heart out.''

As he stopped talking the car went very quiet.

Parker heard Christine swallow and he got the distinct idea that the partners had forgotten he was even there. He didn't move in anticipation already drawing parallels between Michael's speech and their history.

"And was she?" Christine finally whispered. "Was she worth it?"

Michael turned his head to look directly into his partners deep blue-gray eyes, he paused as their eyes locked, a conversation taking place that didn't require any words. Finally wetting his lips, Michael Vincent could only utter one word. The truth.

"Yes."

* * *

The remaining Booth family got down to finishing dinner and wrapping up leftovers for the three missing kid who would arrive back home well after midnight if Brennan and Booth's recall of procedure was anything to go by.

Brennan led Keeli upstairs and showed her Hanks room, the implication made the girl blush, but Brennan didn't even blink at her reaction. Reassuring the girl that she was safe with them she left Keeli to get ready for bed and met Hank in the hallway.

Hugging her son close she allowed him to lean on her as the days events caught up to him. Leaning back she placed a hand on his cheek and smiled into eyes so much like his father's. He had a lost look on his face, she knew he was just experiencing the horrors of real life, the idea that any parent would want to sell their children was abhorrent to him and she knew he was having an internal crisis, she also could tell that he was more focused on helping Keeli than helping himself.

Being more like his father Brennan knew that allowing him to help his loved ones was the best way to help him.

"Show her how much you love her, Hank." she advised. "That's what she needs right now, more than anything. If you hold yourself back from her for any reason, she will see it as rejection."

Hank blushed at the implications of his mother's words but wasn't actually surprised, after all he got his birds and the bees talk from his mother.

"The walls are thick," she continued, now smiling mischievously. "But do try to keep it down, we don't want to give your father a heart attack." With those parting words Brennan walked past her to got see to their newly arrived guest, leaving a stunned Hank Booth staring at his room's closed door.

* * *

_**Ooh Hank's a little stunned, eh? Hehe. **_

_**In regards to my original works, I ****have**** finally launched one short story and am working on a couple of other different stories as well.**_

_**What I was thinking was that I really appreciate when my readers review my chapters. So here's what I have to offer. The first person to review any of my story chapters from here on out, will receive an IM from me asking if they would like to read my current story online for free!**_

_**The only thing I would ask for in return is an honest review of my book on Amazon! I think that's a good deal, right? So from here on out the first person to review my new chapters gets the offer to read my original work. **_


	15. Chapter 15

Three slams of the door announced the arrival of the lead investigators plus one Entomologist to the crime scene. All three paused for a second to look up at the dilapidating structure which housed the crematorium. The sense of foreboding they felt made goosebumps appear on their skin despite the warm night.

Perhaps their reticent was because of the actual presence of a dead body inside that had them on edge.

Parker recovered first and looked to his interim boss. "My gear?" he asked Michael Vincent.

Michael nodded to the Jeffersonian tech van parked in front of the yellow tape. Parker grinned as all apprehensive thoughts left his mind at the thought of dealing with bugs again and rushed to suit up. Michael followed at a slightly sedate pace but still anxious to get inside, after all; the only one he completely trusted to impeccably preserve evidence was himself.

Christine veered off with a nod to him signaling that she was going to talk with the Undertaker who was standing with the Local PD looking very distraught.

Michael climbed in the van to see Parker halfway into his jumpsuit, pulling his own out of a shelf he started donning it on as Parker spoke up.

"So, kid... " and he groaned internally, he was so not ready to be grilled with the protective big brother routine. But he was surprised when Parker said. "You sure you know what you're getting into?"

Despite the futility of the behavior he decided to play dumb with the older man. "What do you mean?" he asked zipping up the suit and checking his bag.

Parker rolled his eyes. "This partnership," he said bluntly. "Working with Christine, you know? After what happened between the two of you?"

For some reason Michael got defensive. "Aren't you supposed to be grilling me about my intentions towards your sister? Why are you on my side."

"I'm not," he said softly as he slipped on black field inspection gloves. "I'm on _our_ _side_," he turned to pin Michael with a stare. "On our family's side. Your and Christine's drama nearly tore Dad and Bones apart. Now I don't know what happened between you two and what's going to happen, but I'd rather keep my family as it is than risk it for another whirlwind romance."

"So you think I should keep my feelings to myself?" he asked more to himself then to Parker, avoiding his gaze. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to meet his pseudo older brothers eyes.

"I think that you should think long and hard about anything that you might want to start and also maybe remember exactly who my sister most tries to emulate from our family. For what it's worth, I don't think Chrissy can do better than you."

He did not know what to say to that so he turned around and opened the door only to find the object their discussion standing on the other side. She had the notepad in her hand and started rattling off information to him.

"So the Underaker says that he was out on vacation and he came back tonight to find the entire basement reeking of decomp. He opened up the crematory and found a body inside the chamber."

Michael nodded and led the way to the front door of the two story building that held their crime scene. "You sure that is not just someone they forgot to burn?" he asked, knowing it probably wasn't but wanted to make sure.

Christine shook her head in the negative. "Places like these hand over the ashes of the dead to their loved ones one or two hours after the ceremony, The Undertaker said that was how he did it so there could be no possible way a body would be left there and not be cremated."

Appreciating that his partner had all the avenues covered he asked his less burning question. "Any idea who all has access to the building?"

"Yeah," she said grimly. "Six churches in nearby counties and states use the home for funeral services. In the Undertakers absence all the Church Deacons are given a key to access the home."

"Maybe _they_ were the ones who left the body in the crematory?" Parker chimed in as they descended the steps to the basement.

She shook her head, no. "The Undertaker said that he doesn't allow anyone to use the crematory in his absence, just the upper floors for receptions or funeral services and access to coffins."

"So this was a body dump?" surmised Micheal as the smell of rotting flesh hit them all at the same time. None of them stumbled as they approached the crematory.

FBI techs and Jeffersonian staff were sparse here as Michael had requested. He leaned down and opened the latch to release the door of the furnace.

"Female," he said immediately. "Age range from eighteen to twenty three years. She was wrapped in a sheet," he indicated unnecessarily since Christine had already noted that fact. "Naked underneath," he sighed as he lifted the sheet to see. "The sheet shows _some_ signs of burning so...?"

He straightened up and went to look at the gas tanks, coincidentally allowing Parker to do his fill in job for the night.

"Blow fly larvae indicates time of death to about five to six days, I can confirm in the lab," he spoke clearly and precisely.

"Yup!" exclaimed Michael from the tanks. "The killer thought that leaving the body in a lit furnace would take care of the evidence."

"He wouldn't be wrong," Chrsitne agreed.

"Fortunately for us, he didn't account for the fact that the tank was near empty, so it went out soon after they must have left."

Christine nodded even as Parker studied the partners dynamic closely. He smirked a little at their chemistry and lifted the sheet a little more to reveal the victims hands.

"Looks like there's some trace evidence under the victims fingernails," he let out as he shone a flashlight at the woman's painted nails. "I'll take some scrapings back at the lab, if this is sexual assault then there might be DNA evidence of the killer there."

Christine nodded along trying to be clinical as she wrote down all the information her squints found out while she tried not think about the young girl, not much older than herself being raped, murdered then stuffed in a furnace to burn.

One of the techs came up to them as a welcome distraction.

"Dr Michael?" he asked the anthropologist. "How much of this do you want to be shipped to the lab?" He looked around the various equipment that littered the area, including the furnace.

Michael shared a look with Parker then smirked at Christine who rolled her eyes. Then all three looked at the tech and said the same sentence at the same time.

"All of it."

* * *

Brennan came down to the living room to find Andi washing dishes while Booth sat near her, in his chair, at the island casually chatting with her.

"Booth!" she reprimanded. "Why are you making our guest wash the dishes."

"Oh, I offered, mum!" Andi rushed to explain even as Booth rose to answer the same thing. He paused though at her address. "Dad tried to stop me but I insisted, since technically I'm not a guest, am I?"

There was sense of hopefulness in her eyes that spoke of a deep seated insecurity that both parents recognized and decided that they did not like. If their daughter in law needed to wash the dishes to make herself feel more like part of the family then they weren't going to interfere.

"I'll dry," said Brennan instead and took up a towel even as Booth smiled and mouthed the word 'Dad' at his wife who slapped him lightly with the towel and got to work next to their soon to be daughter in law.

* * *

The next morning, everyone was in a slump. After a hectic day and an eventful night, none of the residents of the Booth household were in the mood for an early morning. All except two of its newest members.

Andi found Keeli creeping down from Hanks room upstairs just as she had put the skillet on. Smiling at the younger girl she motioned for her to come in.

"Hey," Andi said as she offered a hand to the timid girl. "I don't think we got introduced last night. I'm Andi, I'm Parkers fiancé. You're Keeli right?"

Keeli hesitantly accepted the hand and smiled tentatively at the newcomer. "Hi," she said self consciously.

"I was just getting ready to make breakfast for the family. Would you like to help?" Andi recognized easily that mentioning the girls previous distress would serve to do nothing but succeeding in her clamping up, so she decided to be upbeat instead. "I plan to introduce them to the English breakfast spread, are you familiar with the concept?"

Keeli shook her head feeling a bit apprehensive but Andi was obviously so nice that she made it hard to be shy around her.

"It's a large breakfast spread of eggs, bacon, bangers; which are sausages, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, baked beans; which I don't thing they have, and served with tea or coffee depending upon preference."

"Well," Keeli ventured hesitantly. "I can make coffee?"

Andi's smile did not diminish, "Excellent, one less thing for me to do." she offered the young girl the carafe and they got to work.

* * *

The smell of home cooked meal rose the majority of the house but the first one to rise up was Parker Booth as he recognized the smell of his soon to be wife's cooking. Following his nose like a cartoon character, the bedraggled eldest brother of the Booth brood floated into the kitchen and smiled at the domestic sight of his lover as she prepared a huge spread of familiar breakfast dishes.

He watched as she flitted to and from the stove, to the island and then over to the sink where, surprisingly, Keeli Marshall stood, supervising the coffee drip and cleaning any utensils that Andi was done with.

Andi spotted him and her eyes lit up in that familiar way that absolutely melted him. He was unable to resist reaching for her slim waist and pulling her against him, a deep sensual kiss followed as he promised her so much more later on.

Out of the corner of his eye, as he pulled back, he saw Keeli avert her eyes with a small smile. Andi smacked his hand just then as he reached for the cut up tomatoes. Pouting at her as she sternly pointed at his prepared plate and ordered him to sit at the table while she fed his family.

He did as he was told, but didn't stop openly admiring his alluring fiancé until the soft footsteps of his mom made an appearance.

"Oh!" she gasped as she took everything in.

"Oh, good morning, Mum!" Parker glanced up at the address and realized that this wasn't the first time Andi had called his mother Mum. He felt like a balloon was expanding in his chest at the thought of his mom and wife-to-be were getting along. "Tea or coffee?"

Never having been one to be stunned for too long she accepted a cup of tea and settled down beside her eldest. "You do realize," she said in a stage whisper. "That if the boys get a whiff of this, then they won't allow you to leave the country? They'll expect this every single day."

Andi beamed at the thought as she slid the mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, and eggs into her mother in laws plate and added a couple of slices of buttered toast. Offering her the plate she went back to cooking as one by one the family descended on the table which was by then heaving with food.

The cooking done with, Andi sat down next to Parker and dug in as all of the Booth clan helped themselves, with Christine making up a plate similar to her mothers and Andi heaping up a plate almost identical to Booth's!

"Wow, Mom! When did you get the time to do all this?" Hank marveled through a mouthful of eggs.

"Don't talk with your mouthfull Hank!" she scolded her youngest then turned her attention to Andi. "And you have Andi to thank for your food, she was the one who made each and every meal that you see on this table."

"Well," Andi demurred. "I had help." she insisted.

"Only with coffee!" piped up the _help_ even as she cut up a sausage and took a small bite before ending up devouring the entire thing.

Hank's eyes lit up as he studied Andi for a minute. "Mom?" he asked his mother, "can we keep her?"

She frowned at her son. "Physical ownership of a person is illegal and highly immoral, Hank Booth!" Brennan declared firmly, then paused before smiling cheekily. "Although for Andi I might have to make an exception."

It was a close thing that the food didn't fall out of her son's mouth at his mother's joke.

"Well, I guess that a good thing then," said the now completely red Andi. Parker and her shared a look and knew this was the best time. As the rest of the table aside from Booth and Brennan stared at them confused, Parker took Andi's left hand and clasped it in his right turning it for all to see the shining jewel that sat in the modest band wrapped around her ring finger.

There was a second of silence before the entire table erupted with enthusiastic declaration of congratulations and cajoling.

Christine made her way around the table and offered her soon to be sister-in-law a close hug. "Welcome to the family, we haven't met but I'm glad that you make Parker happy."

Andi smiled at the beautiful young woman who her fiancé talked so much about. "Maybe we could grab a drink soon and get to know each other," she offered.

Christine smiled brightly. "I think I'd like that a lot."

The women released each other as Parker and the rest of the men's back slapping subsided and the family settled down to eat once more, a cheery calm settling at the table as they enthusiastically dug in to the generously prepared food.

* * *

Parker strode into the Jeffersonian only to find Michael already there, half of the remains already on the platform table.

He stopped short of the barrier sensors and called out to the completely immersed Anthropologist.

"Did you stay here all night?" he asked making the younger man look up and smile at the newcomer.

"Couldn't sleep," he admitted. "Figured I'd get a head start and see if I can figure out how she died." He glanced around Parker and asked. "Where's my intern?"

Parker smirked. "She's getting prepped. Following procedure."

Michael nodded approvingly if not a little indulgently. Parker figured he'd answer Michael's unasked question as well.

"Chrissy's gone back to the Hoover, says she'll wait in you there for the ID. I figured I'll help you out here till lunch, then I've got to go help mum check out of the hospital."

Michael dropped his work immediately at the reminder of Rebecca's condition.

"Did you get a chance to check on her?" he asked approaching the barrier and running his hand through it as Parker walked on up.

"Yeah, she's doing okay, your mother really kept her spirits up, Mom took over until she checks out so she's fine."

"Osteoporosis has to be better than cancer, right?"

Parker grinned. "Much, much better. Yes." he said as they both approached the tables where the crematory had been wheeled in. "Thanks to Bones, I don't know what any of us Booth boys would do without her," he said reverently as he snapped on some gloves.

The sound of soft soled shoes against the metal platform announced the arrival of the last member of their forensics team. Hair tied back lab coat on and gloves donned, Keeli Marshall had her back straight and her lips set as she encountered the familiar environment of science and reason and used it as her refuge.

The three squints set to work to retrieve the rest of the remains and solve the victims murder.


End file.
